Welcome to the Rock
by maybesomedaysameen
Summary: Twelve years ago, the day Root and Shaw graduated from the Academy, Shaw disappeared. Root looked for her for ten years, learning secrets and making enemies. Now, she's been assigned to The Rock for two years as Chief Astrobotanist and Shaw is there, safe and sound. Where was she for those ten years? Does she have something to do with the government corruption that's destroying the


Root stared into the dark room, nervously tugging on her gardening glove. It was hot in the arboretum today and her palms had already started to sweat. Thankfully, she didn't care about the dress code for her domain and just wore overalls every day of the 'week.' In space, there were no week days and so Root had declared that every moon cycle was Casual Friday. She did at least wear a blue-green shirt, the closest she'd get to her stuffy uniform top.

When High Command had forced her to move to this tiny rock in the middle of the Indigo Alpha Galaxy, Root hadn't even asked why. She knew why she was banished from the homeworld, but she had hoped there'd be something exciting to do at the tiny station. There wasn't.

She had been positioned at the station, unaffectionally called "The Rock," for just over two Earth years now, and Root was coming to terms with the fact that "Chief Astrobotanist" meant "vegetable farmer". They hadn't run into many new species in their little solar system. She wondered if The Rock was even necessary. Maybe it was just a place to put those who didn't fall in line. A place for people who challenged authority and didn't let the Consortium bully them.

Speaking of bullying, Root needed to feed her Pyropixis Passiflora. Squinting, Root leaned forward, trying to peak into the impenetrable darkness of the Passiflora's private room. They'd gotten the large, vine plant about eight months ago, a gift from a rare passing ambassador. Captain Finch had been thrilled to add a non-Terran plant to their collection, but Root was the one who had to feed it with fire every Earth Friday.

Root sighed and picked her flamethrower off the ground, sliding her arms through comfortable straps. It wasn't all bad. She'd never been allowed to touch a flamethrower on Earth. The Academy had forbade it, calling her a "bad influence" and "dangerous." You start one fire that can only be put out with Centarian Bird-Dog vomit and they take away your fire permit.

"Alright, Lieutenant," Root said to herself, reaching over her shoulder to pull the long nozzle from its holder, "You do this every week. Of course, you also end up in the infirmary every week…"

She took falsely confident steps toward the dark room, crossing the open grassy area and clutching the nozzle awkwardly in her gloves. Her arboretum was huge and she'd tucked the Passiflora's room into the outermost corner. Now, it was pressed against the glass, staring up at the stars. Root thought it had climbed the walls of its small room, but it was so dark that she couldn't tell.

Stopping in front of the entrance, Root took a deep breath. She adjusted her hands, one on the trigger and one on the firing end, and stepped inside. The darkness overwhelmed her immediately. The Passiflora's leaves soaked in light, or so Root assumed from the few tests she'd been able to run. Despite the technology that let them travel, and live, in space, there was still so much to learn.

When it had been in the garden, between the Earth Tomatoes and the Third York Empirical Pears, it had been catastrophic. The plant sucked light from the incredibly high fixtures and made it seem like the arboretum was always in 'Night' time. It had been nice to see all the stars through the arboretum's clear, high ceilings, but every other plant needed light, so Root had hidden him away.

"Alright, Buddy," Root shouted into the darkness, "it's dinner time!"

She pulled the trigger and flames leapt from the flamethrower's spout, illuminating the thick vines of the alien plant. Instead of catching fire, the plant seems to soak the fire up, glowing slightly in the places the fire touched it.

The fire made Root even warmer, sweat pooling underneath her faux-uniform top. She remembered how she discovered her pet plant thrived on fire. Commander Shaw had come to the Arboretum for a visit; something she rarely did. Root had been upset that her plant was dying. The Commander was actually the one who suggested fire.

'If water seems to be killing it, why not try fire?'

Root grinned in the dark, remembering the smug look on the Commander's face. She'd gotten her cuts patched up a little slower than usual that day, with fewer scathing remarks. Commander Shaw had even sat next to her at dinner.

Thinking about the Commander distracted Root and a large vine snuck up on her, wrapping around her ankle and yanking her into the air. She dropped the nozzle of the flamethrower, intimately aware of what would happen if she held on. Her recently regrown ponytail hung towards the ground as the plant hoisted her another twenty feet.

"Come on, girl," Root said, gently, trying and failing to find something to focus on, "we talked about this. I feed you and you don't hurt me."

She waited for a response, but, as usual, there was nothing. The Passiflora seemed somewhat sentient, but only when it wanted to be. It usually just lurked in the shadows until feeding time. The grip around Root's ankle tightened and she winced.

"This is where Commander Shaw would say 'Regulation boots protect your ankles from almost anything. You wouldn't even feel that if you were wearing the uniform.'" Root scoffed, grabbing her flamethrower straps before they could slide off. "We're an isolated station on an isolated rock in an isolated solar system. I'm going to die in the middle of Space Montana."

The plant squeezed tighter for a moment, a loud snap echoing in the small room, before releasing its grip. Root dropped to the ground, her shoulders smashing against the hard flamethrower pack. She lay on the ground for a moment, her body throbbing. Maybe, if she lay here, someone would find her and carry her to the Infirmary.

Sighing, she rolled over onto her knees and climbed to her feet. Her right ankle hurt too much to stand, so she carefully limped her way back out into the light. The grass was soft under her as she sat to pull off her flamethrower. She hit the insignia pinned to her overalls and started pulling her gloves off.

"Sameen?"

Static crackled over the comm as she tossed her gloves onto the ground beside her.

"That's Commander Shaw to you."

Root grinned and dropped onto her back, arms splayed at her sides. "Commander Sameen, I need medical attention."

"The little firecracker got you again?"

"It's a big firecracker, Commander. I can handle the little ones."

Root felt the familiar tingling in her stomach as her surroundings began to dissolve. The world faded to white for a brief second and when it reappeared, she was lying on an Infirmary bed, Commander Shaw standing across the room, scowling.

"Seriously?" Shaw said, taking her hand off the transportation panel. "You're not even scratched."

Root lifted her leg, pointing to the offending ankle. "She squeezed me."

"Pathetic. I can't believe you graduated from Academy."

Root smiled, not taking the insult to heart. Commander Shaw had graduated with her from the Academy, stood next to her when they were pinned. It was the last day they were together before they were both stationed out here. Root sighed, pushing the thought away

Shaw moved to a desk and picked up a square piece of equipment. "I'm going to check your ankle," Shaw announced, walking over. "Then, I'll either fix the swelling or tell you to get the hell out of my Infirmary."

"But, Sameen, you're so lonely here all by yourself."

Commander Shaw flipped open her Bioscanner, glaring at Root. "I like the quiet. It lets me focus on my work."

"What kind of work?" Root asked, half-serious. "Can I help?"

Root yelped as Shaw grabbed her ankle and lifted it into the air. Apparently, Commander Shaw wasn't in the mood to be teased today. Root let it go, sitting up to watch the Commander run the Bioscanner over her bruising ankle.

Shaw's bedside manner hadn't changed since she was 18. She was just as rough as she had been when they met. They were in the Academy Prep program, struggling to get through summer classes. Shaw had been so young, barely 18, and so full of fire and passion and anger. Root was interested immediately. It only took three more years to get Sameen interested in her.

The first time they'd kissed, they'd been in the Academy Observation Lounge. Shaw had pointed out her favorite constellations and Root had just…kissed her. She'd honestly thought Shaw would punch her, but instead, they had sex under the stars, only glass between them and oblivion. Of course, they'd gotten caught and written up, but it had been worth it.

It was crazy to think they'd ended up on the same station, stranded on the outer rim of the galaxy. Root's assignment was obvious punishment for her past mistakes, but she didn't know why Sameen was there. Commander Shaw, Promising Consortium Hero, should have had her pick of positions, but instead she was out here.

Shaw closed her Bioscanner with a snap, glaring at Root. "It's broken. I'll fix it, but you'll have to keep it elevated for the rest of the day. Does anything else hurt?"

"I did land on my back," Root offered, smiling. "Doesn't seem like I'm always on my back?"

"Jesus," Shaw muttered, rolling her eyes. "Open your overalls so I can take a look."

Root sat up straight and saluted her commander. "Yes, Ma'am."

She didn't unbuckle her overalls. Instead, she just pulled her arms through the loose loops, letting them drop to the side. Her blue-green shirt clung to her, sweat making it stick to her body. She peeled it off slowly, her muscles groaning.

"Don't hurt yourself," Shaw murmured softly, stepping forward to help Root pull her shirt off. "Careful."

Root let Shaw help her, stretching her arms above her head. When Sameen was this close, it was hard to think about anything, but the way she smelled. Commander Shaw always smelled like sanitizing soap and steel medical instruments. It was intoxicating and distracting.

Shaw's face was very close to hers as Root's hands were finally free from the shirt and Root was so tempted to lean forward and act on her impulses, but they didn't do that anymore. At least, not in the cold light of 'day.' Root licked her lips, noticing the way Shaw's lashes fluttered.

They weren't in love anymore, not officially. After Shaw's disappearance and Root's forbidden research, there wasn't a lot of trust. Root knew that Sameen hadn't gone to med school, that her position on the Starship Relevance had been a lie, but she couldn't say anything. Shaw probably knew all about Root's misuse of information, about her accessing the AI Program.

Even if she didn't, even if Shaw was keeping her distance for other reasons, Root couldn't let her guard down. She couldn't handle getting hurt again. When they were in the Academy together, twelve years ago, Root was sure that they'd get married, get assigned to the same Starship, become pioneers in their fields. Instead, she'd gone to find Sameen after graduation, but Sameen never showed up. For the next ten years, she'd never shown up.

Root had only joined the Academy because she'd gotten kicked out of college for rewriting academic papers. Her teachers didn't know anything about Astrobotany! The Academy had accepted her, though, let her study with her plants and explore the field of intergalactic horticulture. She liked plants; they were just the universe's programs.

Most of her time had been spent in the Academy's arboretum. The second Root had learned that she could substitute battle training for a different concentration, she'd run to Admiral McCarthy's office and demanded to be placed in the Life Sciences program. She wanted to work with plants more than anything, learn the way they could be changed and bred to help people, feed any species, made into technology.

It wasn't long before Root became well-known in the Life Sciences field. She'd started publishing articles and research in her fourth year, earlier than anyone else. She was also the youngest enlisted crewman to win a Medal of Freedom. There had been a food crisis, whole strains of vegetation wiped out by plague, and Root had engineered resistant alternatives that would survive almost anything. Of course, that turned out to be a small symptom of something worse, but Root had solved the immediate crisis.

Sameen had studied medicine, learning from the best doctors the Academy had to offer. She'd flown to the top of her class, won every award possible, become one of the most sought-after medical crewmen. She was amazing.

Root and Sameen had been so in love. Five years of happiness and scholarship and personal growth. They were going to take over the universe, challenge authority, and discover things their teachers could only imagine. Then something had happened, Shaw had left, and Root had spiraled. Here they were, twelve years later, forgotten together.

Root sucked in a shaking breath and leaned back, pulling herself out of Shaw's orbit. "Thanks," she said, nodding to her shirt. "I must have hurt my back more than I thought."

"Well, landing on your pack will do that," Shaw snorted, not meeting Root's eyes. "Let me look at it."

Root nodded and adjusted herself on the bed, swinging her legs around to show Shaw her back. For a moment, nothing happened and she started shivering, her regulation bra no defense against the Infirmary's chill. Shaw's hands on her back made her tense. Slowly, softly, Shaw's fingers traced over Root's back, lingering on several scars.

Every time Shaw traced over a scar, Root's memories violently flooded back. She closed her eyes, running through the Old Latin names for the plants in her gardens, trying to ward off the deepest darkness. When they had their infrequent encounters, Shaw never touched her softly. It was very clear to Root that she was just a comfortable place for Shaw. Something to take the edge off and then forget.

Shaw cleared her throat, making Root jump. A plastic click told Root that the Bioscanner was open again and a rhythmic beeping filled the air. Shaw whistled.

"Wow, you really messed yourself up," Shaw said. "I think you might need more than just an afternoon to rest."

"I hate the Passiflora," Root sighed, crossing her arms. "We get one gift from aliens and it's a demon vine? This place is the worst."

"Yeah," Shaw agreed. She moved away from Root, towards her work station. "They just dumped all the fuck ups in one place."

Root laughed, turning around again to face Shaw. She let her eyes run over the doctor. As much as she hated the one-piece uniform, she had to admit that Commander Shaw filled it out well. The flexible material clung to her body, highlighting her arm and leg muscles. The blue-green color of the science and medical teams complimented the Commander's skin much better than it did Root.

"Not all of us are fuck-ups, Sameen," Root said, smiling. "I was very good at the crimes I committed."

Shaw picked up her Osteogenic Stimulator and headed for Root's ankle. "I would ask what those crimes were, but then I could be called to testify against you."

"Aww," Root said, pressing a hand to her chest, "you still want to protect me."

Shaw squinted at her, looking annoyed. She held up the Stimulator. "I don't have to heal you, you know. I could just chuck this at your face and kick you out."

"I'm not the one who leaves, Sameen," Root said quietly, "but you know I'd go if you really wanted me to."

Sameen just stared at her for a moment, face unreadable. Root knew this look so well, the look of Shaw listening as hard as she could for her feelings. It never bothered Root that Shaw struggled with emotions, Root always had enough for both of them, but the seconds between Root's words and Shaw's response always made her heart beat faster.

"I'll get written up if I don't treat you," Shaw finally sniffed. "You can stay."

A grin spread across Root's face.

"I knew you cared."

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Root stared down at her tablet, watching information scroll across the screen. "But if The Consortium doesn't want technology to advance, then why have all these Worlds Fairs? Why encourage innovation?" The information in front of her froze. "Right. Right… Control matters most, but at what cost?"

She sighed and glanced at her elevated ankle. Why hadn't the Stimulator been able to fully heal her? Their technology just wasn't where it should be. It had stalled for the last decade or so, even with the inventions and research, nothing was really progressing. Her ankle throbbed painfully and Root dropped her tablet onto her stomach, dropping back on the bed, hair spreading across her pillow.

Root had been confined to her quarters for the past two days while her ankle and back healed. Commander Shaw would treat her again in the morning and then Root could head back to work. She bet her Passiflora missed her. It would probably sneak out of its room to attack her as soon as she walked into the arboretum.

Root stared at her ceiling, mind swirling. When the Academy, and the Consortium, had shut down her lab and her contraband research, Root had only become more determined to find out the truth. Something was wrong in the Consortium and even if she was stuck on this godforsaken Rock, Root would find out what it was.

When Sameen first disappeared, Root had been devastated. She was sure that Sameen had been kidnapped, or killed, but the Academy told her the Sameen had simply left for Med School on the Brighton Major Colony. For a while, Root had believed that, feeling abandoned and heartbroken.

It didn't explain why Sameen had disappeared without a word, though. Eventually, Root had pulled herself out of the wreckage and started digging. She taught classes, published Astrobotany papers, and illegally searched through Consortium records. She had been convinced that Sameen had been taken and it had been covered up.

Root had run into something unexpected – a computer program that seemed to run itself. The Program, as Root had lazily named it, was holding the Consortium together. Root wasn't sure exactly how much it controlled or how much it factored into the tentative peace, but it was teaching her, helping her understand what was happening in the upper echelons of High Command.

There was a chime and Root sat up, looking towards the door. She wasn't expecting a visitor and that meant Commander Shaw had come by. They hadn't spent the night together in over a month. Maybe Shaw had finally come up with an excuse she could justify.

They used to initiate equally. Root would stop by Shaw's quarters with a question or Shaw would come by with a book. Root had stopped trying recently. It had been nice in the beginning, when she thought there was a chance that they'd get back together, but now that it was clear Sameen didn't want a relationship, or even a friendship really, Root was getting tired of their game. She turned her tablet off and sat up.

"Come in," she called, unlocking the door.

The door opened with a gentle hiss, revealing Shaw on the other side with a Medibag hanging from one shoulder. She walked into Root's room, kicking off her shoes and placing the bag on the dinner table. Root watched her take her hair down, running her eyes over Shaw's casual clothing, her jogging shorts and old Academy T-shirt.

Shaw finished with her hair and started unzipping her bag. "I thought I'd come check on you. Maybe you're ready for your last treatment tonight."

"Thanks." Root put her tablet on her nightstand. "I'm going stir crazy."

"I'm sure you've got a lot of pent up energy," Shaw murmured, not looking at Root. She pulled a few tools from her bag. "You should do something with it."

Root waited for her to turn around before winking, shifting to rest her weight on her elbows. "But Doctor, I'm injured. I need to be taken care of."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Pathetic."

Root didn't answer. Shaw crossed the room, tools in her hand. She kneeled on the bed, crawling her way to Root's ankle. Originally, all the rooms in the station had small, single person beds, but since there were only 300 people in a station built for 2,000, everyone had taken beds from other rooms and made themselves larger beds. Root's bed was three together, giving her enough space to sprawl out and have her projects around her.

Shaw stopped next to her ankle, dropped two tools onto the bed, and flipped open her Bioscanner. "Let's see what we've got."

Root listened to the even beeping of the Bioscanner, frowning. The Bioscanner Shaw was using was outdated, something from decades ago. It still worked, but it was a relic, like the station they were abandoned in. She licked her lips.

"Don't you think it's weird that we can't heal in one go yet? I mean, you fix broken bones in two days. Why not one?"

"I guess," Shaw sighed, flipping her Bioscanner shut, "no one has figured it out yet." She dropped her Bioscanner on the bed and picked up her Stimulator. "I wish they had because then I wouldn't have to visit you so much."

"You like when I'm incapacitated," Root flirted, mind whirling. "I think you've got a hero complex."

Shaw snorted, running the Stimulator over Root's foot. Root watched her carefully, watched her strong, steady hands guide the machine. She knew for a fact that Shaw was capable of inventing a better medical tool. If she'd really gone to Med School after the Academy, leaving Root behind in her academic pursuits, then Shaw would have invented a better machine. Root didn't believe Shaw went to Med School anymore, but she still tucked the new thought away for later.

"We should do it," she said thoughtfully. "Build the new machine. What else are we going to do out here?"

Shaw shot her a meaningful glance, hands still moving. Root gasped quietly. She remembered the project they'd started twelve years ago before Shaw left. Happy memories flooded her and she had to look away, focus on the blank screen of the tablet beside her.

They had been working on exactly that – inventing new, better medical techniques. Root's understanding of technology and herbology combined with Sameen's knowledge of human physiology and the current medical practices made them an unstoppable team. Root had destroyed all of their work in her rage. She wondered if Shaw knew that.

"All done," Shaw muttered, tossing the Osteogenic Stimulator off the bed. "Your ankle is good as new."

"Thanks."

Root expected Shaw to leave now. She'd mentioned the past, suggested something for the future. That always ruined Shaw's mood. Root was so tired of being at the mercy of Shaw's whims, letting her in whenever she wanted and leaving her alone when she was in a mood. It used to be mysterious and romantic. Now it just felt like Shaw was indecisive and cruel.

"Ok," Shaw said, picking up her Bioscanner and the second instrument, "let's look at your back."

Root nodded, surprised that Shaw was staying. She sat up, pulling her legs in and taking a moment to look at her ankle. It looked fine, no swelling or bruising. Relieved, she shifted onto her knees and turned so her back was to Shaw. Sitting on her heels, she waited for Shaw to start.

"Shirt," Shaw said, tugging on the fabric. "Off."

"So demanding," Root chuckled. "Always ordering me around."

She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, muscles barely hurting. It made her feel vulnerable to sit in from of Shaw in only her underwear, like they were still close and that this was normal. Root crossed her arms over her chest, pretending there was a need for modesty.

The bed shifted behind her and a second later, the Bioscanner's beeping resumed. They sat in silence as Shaw scanned her back for lingering injuries. Root could feel Shaw's eyes on her and sat up straight.

Even though she hated their constant back and forth, Root knew that she would give in to Shaw. She was addicted to the way Shaw touched her, the way deep, dark eyes stared into her soul. Shaw wouldn't say it tonight, would probably never say it again, but she did love Root and knowing that made it impossible for Root to push her away.

"Do you miss the old days?" Shaw asked, voice almost too quiet to hear. "At the Academy? When we were…"

Her voice trailed off and the Bioscanner snapped shut. Root shivered in the cold air, trying to guess if Shaw wanted an honest answer. Root was already surprised Shaw hadn't left after Root brought up their old experiments. Heat began to spread across Root's back and she guessed Shaw had started using her second tool, the Muscular Regenerator.

"Sometimes," Root breathed. "I miss our talks. I miss not getting sent to The Rock for asking questions. I miss the blissful ignorance and the constant sex."

Shaw laughed. "The sex was pretty great."

"Remember our trip to Centauri Gamma? Over Spring Break?"

"I remember that hotel room," Shaw murmured as the heat grew more intense. "I remember your red underwear."

The heat grew too hot to bear and Root gasped in pain, back arching. Her hands flew to the bed, clutching her sheets and she struggled to breathe. She knew this hurt, it had the last two times, but somehow it still caught her by surprise. She had gotten distracted by Shaw and hurt again.

"Sorry," Shaw muttered. "The last bit is the worst. You're done now."

The heat began to fade and Root sucked in air, back muscles jerking repeatedly.

"Kill me," Root moaned, waiting for the spasms to subside. "Just kill me."

"Relax," Shaw said. The bed behind Root shifted. "You'll be fine in a second."

Root's muscles stopped cramping and she sighed with relief, dropping her head back. The sudden absence of pain made her feel like she was floating, her body only half real. She took long, slow breaths, staring up at her grey ceiling. She relaxed her hands, letting her sheets go.

Shaw's hands settled on her shoulders and Root closed her eyes, resigning herself to her weakness and Shaw's careful touch. Strong hands slide down her back, fingers pushing into her back as they dragged downwards. Root lifted her head, done with her fake modesty, and turned around.

She threw herself at Shaw, knowing strong arms would catch her and pull her close. Their mouths crashed together and Root groaned. Sameen always tasted like stardust, always hot and fierce and consuming. Kissing her sucked the air from Root and left her gasping for breath as she fell apart.

Sameen pulled back, already breathing hard, and Root chased her, pushing their mouths together again. Her hands clutched Sameen's head as she pressed their chests together, climbing onto Sameen's lap. She could never get close enough, never feel satisfied. Sameen's nails dug into her bare back and Root moaned into Sameen's mouth, their breath mingling together.

She felt Sameen's hands slide around her sides, run up her chest, and cover her breasts.

"Touch me," Root begged, eyes shut tight. "Bite me."

A hot wet mouth trailed across Root's face and down to her neck. She struggled to breath as Sameen's teeth sunk into her neck and her hands touched Root's chest. It was intoxicating to be so close, to have so much of her touched at once. Sameen knew her body so well and she could drive Root crazy so quickly.

"I love your body," Sameen groaned into Root's collarbone. "I love your mouth."

Root yanked Sameen's head up, desperately kissing her again, trying to convey what she felt. She wanted Sameen with her always, as close as possible. She hated their awkwardness, but she loved when they could be together like this, just the two of them, only the good parts of their past with them.

Sameen's hands moved again, sliding under Root's butt and lifting her up. Root didn't pull away, she just wrapped her legs around Sameen's waist and held on. They scooted up the bed and Sameen tossed her down, throwing her onto the bed with a thump.

Root watched as Sameen pulled her tank top and bra over her head, throwing them away. She sat above Root, glorious and terrifying. Root ran her hands up Sameen's muscular stomach, spreading her fingers over soft skin.

"I love you, Sameen."

Sameen grabbed her wrists and shoved them into the pillow, holding Root's hands down with a bruising grip. She leaned forward, their chests brushing together, and hovered above Root's mouth. The look in her eyes made Root breathe hard in anticipation.

"That's Commander Shaw to you."

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Root walked into the Mess Hall, looking around for Sameen. They had spent the night together for the first time in a while and, while Root didn't want to get her hopes up, she felt like things could be looking up. She'd mentioned the past, she'd talked about the future, and Shaw had still stayed with her.

When she'd woken up, Shaw was gone, but Root wasn't surprised. If they showed up in the Mess together, rumors would start and they both had reputations to maintain.

"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!"

Root grinned and started towards Lt. Commander Morgan, getting into line behind her. "I have to mix it up sometimes," Root said, smirking. "Make you wait for it."

Zoe rolled her eyes, turning toward the Replicator on the wall. "How about…a mushroom omelet, Old Earth pancakes and… a Mocha Latte." The replicator shimmered and three muffins appeared on a tray. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Root waited for her to take her food and step aside. Stepping forward, she cleared her throat. "The usual, please."

The Replicator whirred loudly before shimmering. A stack of pancakes appeared on a tray, looking and smelling delicious. She took them and turned to Zoe, laughing when she saw her shocked face.

"How?" Zoe asked, still staring. "What- Not Muffins?"

"Just a little something I worked on while I was cooped up," Root answered. "I have an in with the computer."

Zoe sighed and started for their table. "I should have known. Maybe you can teach me some of that stuff. Can you make secret databases? I needed that six years ago."

Root chuckled, but stored the information away for later. She knew that Zoe had been sent out here as punishment, too, but she was still trying to figure out what exactly she'd done. Zoe never gave anything away, though. Root thought she might be an ambassador's daughter who learned too much and got sent away.

"I don't know about that," Root said, "but if you ask for the usual, you'll get pancakes."

She dropped her tray on the table between Shaw and Lieutenant Fusco, climbing over the long bench and sitting down. Immediately, Shaw's knee brushed against hers, barely hard enough to feel through Root's overalls. Above the table, Shaw frowned at her oatmeal, angrily moving it around with her fork.

"What do I need to say for pancakes?" Fusco asked. "The usual?"

"Yeah," Root confirmed, picking up her silverware. "Pancakes all around!"

Fusco immediately stood up and climbed back over the bench. Looking around the table, Root smiled at everyone. She'd made a small group of friends at the station, carefully crafted to put her close to the most important people, the ones with the most power.

Captain Finch led their station and Root knew he had something to do with her Program. Commander Reese was head of security, good in a fight, and would probably protect Root if she needed it. Lt. Commander Morgan was head of Personnel, Commander Carter was head of Engineering, and Root wasn't entirely sure what Fusco did, but he was friends with everyone else, so she was nice to him.

Root started in on her pancakes. She was eager to check on her plants. Shaw had stopped in on them while Root was gone, but she was still worried about them. There was only so much she could do with the Replicator and nothing compared to fresh fruits and vegetables. Looking up from her plate, she saw Captain Finch staring at her from across the table.

"You really should be wearing the uniform, Lieutenant," he said with a sigh. "I'm supposed to write you up if you don't."

"Are you going to write me up?" Root asked.

"No, I suppose not."

"You should," Shaw snorted. "She keeps hurting herself in her soft shoes. Also, she looks stupid in those overalls."

Root frowned, hand tightening around her fork. They were keeping a low profile because of privacy, but that didn't mean Sameen had to be rude. Root's happy mood flagged a little bit and she starting eating again, avoiding a response.

"I like them," Carter offered. "Very retro chic."

"Thank you," Root said pointedly. "I think they're cool."

"You also think plants are cool," Shaw snipped. When Root turned to look at her, she pressed her knee even closer. "I don't think you have great judgement."

Root glared at her, not sure what was happening. Why did Shaw always act mean and tough in front of everyone else, but so nice when they were alone? It was especially bad today after their beautiful night. Root moved her knee away.

"No," she said bitterly, "I guess I don't."

Shaw met her eyes for a moment before looking away. Root kicked herself for thinking one night of openness would lead to a better relationship. Shaw had her own issues to deal with and Root didn't want to get hurt in the process. She was trying to figure out a Consortium-wide conspiracy; she didn't have time for interpersonal drama.

"So," Root said, pulling herself together and smiling around the table, "what's new on The Rock? What did I miss?"

Carter leaned forward, arms crossed on the table. "Well, we got a mysterious message. It came from the direction of Earth, but we can't decode it. Maybe you can take a crack at it?"

"I'd rather she didn't," Captain Finch cut in, holding a hand out. "I'll take a look at it again. I'm sure it's nothing serious. Just a mistake."

Analyzing him with guarded eyes, Root didn't buy that for a second. She knew that the Captain was a master programmer. He'd written some of the code that flew Survey-Class starships. Root would ask The Program if she could look at the message. It had to be something important if it had come out all this way.

She needed that message. Maybe it would tell her who on The Rock was working with The Consortium. Technically they all were, but Root was starting to feel her loyalty flag. They lied about Sameen, destroyed Root's research, banished 300 people to this outdated station.

"Let me know if you need any help," Root said, smiling. Shaw's knee brushed against hers again and she tensed. "I don't think I'm that hungry after all. I'll be in the arboretum."

She stood up, taking her tray and climbing over her bench, not bothering to look at Shaw. If Shaw seemed concerned, Root would just be mad and if she seemed uninterested, Root would be madder. She loved Shaw, but she couldn't keep getting jerked around like this.

Walking across the Mess, she put her tray on the Dissipater, watching as it disappeared, and then walked out into the Corridor. Root took a deep breath, calming herself and starting towards the arboretum. As she walked, the computers set into the walls showed her information, The Program following her as she slowly moved along.

"So, Admiral McCarthy's father was the previous President of the Consortium?" Root muttered under her breath to the computer. "That doesn't seem right. The position is elected and the last President wasn't liked."

The computer showed her an election document, stopping her in her tracks. Root squinted at the screen, looking at several ballots from the last election. Each Quadrant had their own ballot, with Admiral McCarthy's name in different places. One had her as the Earth candidate, but the other ballots said she was from the Quadrant where it was distributed.

Root realized that the Admiral had played on the fact that people would vote for their own representative, trying to gain some power over the Consortium of Human Settlements. The election was rigged and no one had actually voted at all. It was terrible, but it fit into Root's suspicions that the Consortium cared less about peace between settlements and more about control.

"Root!" someone called from behind her. "Wait a minute."

The information in front of Root disappeared as The Program hid itself again, the normal buttons filling the screens. Shaw stopped beside Root, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. Root ignored her, resuming her trek across the station.

She didn't want to talk to Shaw. She wanted to spend the day picking vegetables and checking on her cross-breeding experiments. There was too much to think about, too much information to sort through in her mind, and she didn't have time to be distracted.

"Root?" Shaw asked, grabbing Root's arm and making her stop. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Root repeated. She yanked her arm away. "I know we don't talk about…whatever it is that we are, but you don't have to be such an asshole. We can be friends."

Shaw frowned. "We are friends."

"Are we?" Root laughed humorlessly. She started walking again. "This is our pattern, Sam. You're mean to me in front of people, nice to me when we're alone in the Infirmary, wonderful when we're alone in my room, and then back to being terrible again in the morning. I can't do it anymore. I have bigger things to deal with."

"Bigger things? Your plants aren't that important."

Root stopped, turning on Shaw, eyes blazing. "Those plants are the only thing I have. I ruined my life because of you, lost my career and my work and my home because you disappeared without a word and now, I'm trying to recover. We are stuck on this fucking Rock for the rest of our lives or until the Consortium inevitably collapses. I have put up with a lot from you, but I'm not going to let you insult my work."

She spun on her heel and stalked away, not caring whether or not Shaw followed. If she allowed herself to be honest, Root just wanted answers. She wanted to know where Shaw was, why she left without a word, why she could forget Root so easily. Was Root really so forgettable?

There was something bad happening and Root was starting to see the big picture and she would need allies. It was impossible to change the Consortium on her own, so she was going to have to start talking to people soon, seeing if anyone would support her. It would be…beneficial to the effort if Shaw was on her side.

Root slowed down, finally looking over her shoulder. Shaw hadn't followed her. She looked at the computer screen next to her.

"Do you understand feelings?" she asked The Program, "or do you just collect and filter information?"

The menu screen dissolved, a picture replacing it. It was a picture of Root and Shaw from the Academy, taken one weekend when they'd gone off-world on vacation. Shaw was wearing sunglasses and a wetsuit, sprawled out under a beach umbrella, asleep. Beside her, Root was pressed to her side, bikini-clad body curled into a ball. Their Camera Drone had taken the picture without instruction and Root had been thrilled.

Now, Root stared at it with watering eyes. She and Shaw had already been through stress. They'd had their fights and figured out how to be together, but that was twelve years ago. Root didn't know who Shaw was anymore. She didn't even know who she was.

After she'd come to terms with Shaw's disappearance, Root had carried on with her life, teaching and experimenting. She'd started moving on, moving forward, trying to be happy again and figure out a new life plan. She was dating other women, or at least sleeping with them, and she was sure that everything was fine.

That's when she'd met The Program. It had found her, appeared on the screen in her small Academy apartment. Root wasn't sure what to make of it at first. Was it someone playing a trick? Was the Consortium testing her loyalty? But The Program had known things about her that no one but Shaw did. It knew things about the Consortium that Root could never access herself.

Doubt about the Consortium and Shaw's disappearance crept in, haunting Root. The Program told a story of a power grab, a group of people who had looked at the Earth-Colonies War and decided they could profit from it. If they kept the colonies dependent on Earth, then they could control them forever.

Then, a letter arrived 5 years after Sameen left. It was an apology letter, handwritten and incredibly long. Root had crumbled, Sameen's words cutting her open again. It was wrong, though. Once she'd taken a step back, Root realized that the letter was fake, someone's attempt to placate Root, make her stop searching.

It had hardened her resolve. She'd searched for Sameen, wading through secret research. Nothing turned up, though. There was no whiff of Sameen in the universe. One day, Root found some information that she couldn't access, information that The Program was locked out of. That's when the President's personal police had broken her door down and put her in front of the High Council and sent her here.

Root closed her eyes, trying to erase the happy picture from her mind. "Please get rid of that. I can't look at it today." A soft beep made her open her eyes. The picture was gone and the menu was back. "Thanks."

Root wiped her eyes and started walking.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"The signal seems to be coming from our neighboring solar system," Commander Reese said from his position next to the screen, "and it is encrypted in a way that our systems can't figure out."

"Aliens?" Commander Carter asked, leaning her elbows onto the conference table. "It isn't surprising that we can't translate. Can we make contact?"

Root stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the signal displayed. They were at the weekly command meeting, the head of each department forced to attend. There was never anything for Root to say, other than 'I'm still growing tomatoes,' but she still had to show up and pretend like she had a department to run. This week's meeting was more interesting than it normally was.

In the two years Root had been here, The Rock had never received a single communication, only the one alien ambassador that had wandered off-course and given them the Passiflora. Suddenly, they had a mysterious message from Earth and a signal from somewhere out in space. The signal had to be something important, maybe High Command's mission plans or some crisis on a colony. Root made a note to ask The Program about it later.

A throat cleared and Root turned to see Shaw sitting back in her seat, arms crossed.

"Does this have something to do with the increased military action in the Third York Quadrant?" She scratched her nose. "I read that some of the smaller colonies were experiencing some upheaval. Could this be a cry for help or a threat?"

Captain Finch sighed. "Unfortunately, we just don't know. I've contacted the Consortium, but there's been no response. I think they're a bit tied up by the tension in the Mid-Hattan Region. I'll look at the first message again in the next couple of days and see what I can discover. We'll have to ignore the signal for now."

"Do you want me to look at the signal for you?" Root asked, hopeful. "I'm really good with encryption programs."

"She is," Shaw confirmed. "She could be useful to you."

Root met Shaw's eyes across the table. They hadn't spoken in over a week and Root wasn't sure how she felt. She closed her fists under the table, both hands wrapped in gauze. Her plants were still hurting her, but she couldn't bring herself to ask for Shaw's help. Shaw still hadn't apologized.

Mornings had been tense. The team seemed to feel that something was going on, but none of them would ask. They were all stuck on The Rock for the rest of forever and petty interpersonal drama could make that time a hell. Root looked away, turning to Finch and raising an eyebrow.

"Thank you, but no," the Captain answered. "I am more than capable of doing it myself. The message from Earth is more important. The signal is probably nothing, just a random bit of communication that got sent in the wrong direction."

Root frowned, but she nodded. Captain Finch was the hardest person to crack. Everyone else, she'd managed to at least become friendly acquaintances with, but Finch was stubborn. He hardly talked to her at all, actually. Root would break him eventually; she just hoped it would be before something bad happened.

"Anything else to report?" the Captain asked.

"We've been having some trouble with the scanning units," Carter said. "In station, everything is fine, but something is wrong with the sensors that point outward. We can't detect any incoming debris or space craft."

Lt. Commander Morgan laughed. "Is that an instrument malfunction or is there just nothing out there?"

"Very funny," Carter chuckled, rolling her eyes, "but even if there was nothing, our machines would tell us that. Right now, they're not saying anything."

Fusco sighed. "I'm working on getting you some new pieces, but those nerds down in cargo made some modification to their force fields that created static electricity so everything is floating in the cargo bay. I gotta fix that first."

Root hummed softly, trying to seem like she understood. Fusco's job was still unclear to her. Maybe he was a mechanic?

"Keep me updated," Captain Finch ordered. He pushed himself to his feet. "Dismissed."

Standing, Root tugged at the bandages around her hands, frowning as one came undone. She would have to sneak into the Infirmary after hours to use the tools. Even with the salves she made from her plants, she was worried about infection. The Passiflora had become increasingly agitated and sliced her left palm open. It seemed to be superficial, but Root wanted to make sure nothing important had been severed.

"Do you need a doctor?" Shaw's low voice said behind her.

Root turned, moving her seat away from the table. Shaw looked tired, like she hadn't slept well. It made Root a little happy to see that Shaw could be affected, even if she wasn't upset. Truthfully, she did need a doctor, but she wasn't about to admit weakness now.

"No," she answered. "I'm fine. Nothing wrong with old-fashioned healing."

Shaw nodded, shoving her hands into her lab coat. "Well… You know where I'll be."

Root let out a sharp laugh and walked away, tying her bandage back on as she stepped into the Corridor. It was only the early "afternoon," but Root was too tired to go back to the arboretum. She couldn't face her Passiflora and all of her experiments were incubating. So, she started for her rooms.

"Root!" Someone called, making her slow down. "Wait a minute."

She looked over her shoulder and saw Zoe leaving the Conference Room. She stopped walking, letting Zoe catch up to her.

"What can I do for you?" Root asked, crossing her arms.

Zoe sighed, running a hand through her hair. "This might be too personal, but I was wondering if you needed to talk about Commander Shaw?"

Root shifted her wait. She wasn't sure what Zoe knew or if Sameen had already talked to her. Behind Zoe, the Conference Room door slide open and Sameen stepped out. She glanced at Root for a moment before turning and heading in the opposite direction.

"I'm…not sure what you mean," Root tried, already knowing she sounded unconvincing. "Why would I need to talk about Shaw?"

"You two haven't exactly been subtle," Zoe chuckled. "I know you're trying to keep it secret, though. I just wanted to offer an ear if you ever need it."

Root sighed, dropping her arms. She knew Zoe meant well. "Thanks, but I don't want to talk about her right now. I actually want to forget about her altogether, if that's possible."

Zoe smiled softly and reached out to rub Root's arm. "I've been there. Let me know if you change your mind."

"I will," Root said, smiling back at her. "Thanks."

She waited for Zoe to walk away before turning around again and heading back to her rooms. It was nice of Zoe to offer friendship, but Root didn't want it right now. Maybe when she had a better plan to fight the Consortium she'd take Zoe up on that offer. Right this moment, she wanted to get back to her computer.

The message they'd received from Earth had been harder to decode than Root expected. The Program had helped her develop an advance decryption software, but it was taking some time. Root had left it running a few days ago and, when she'd left this morning, it was almost done. Hopefully, she could read it now.

She smiled at a group of crewmembers as she passed them and wondered about their loyalty. Everyone on The Rock was here because they'd committed some crime or angered the wrong person, but Root still worried that there were people loyal to the Consortium in the station.

The people who lived at the station had all made modifications at some point. Some people added compartments to the walls to hold tools in convenient places. Some people liked to prepare for doomsday scenarios and set up more security cameras and emergency traps. Root's modifications had been smaller, like the Replicator, the irrigation system in the arboretum, and breaking through all of Finch's security measures.

Root stopped in front of her room and keyed her passcode into the small screen beside her door. New stations had doors that recognized the DNA of whoever was assigned the room. The Rock had antiquated password system. It was nice for Root because she could download everyone's passcode and access everything, but it was annoying that Shaw kept guessing her passcodes and entering the arboretum without permission.

The doors slid open and Root walked into the room. Immediately, the lights came on and the screens set into the wall flickered on, the familiar black and white interface of The Program blinking into view. Root wondered if The Program liked her, if it could like her. Maybe it was like Sameen – interested in her only when it needed her.

Sighing, she pulled off her sneakers and threw them towards her closet. The Rock was so boring and she was getting so sick of it. She picked up her tablet and carried it into bed, sprawling out on her stomach as she brought up the decryption program.

It had finally finished and Root read the message as quickly as she could.

"H.F.-

I'm sorry to send this message and risk it getting intercepted, but I have some news that you'll want to hear. Unrest is growing on the homeworld. Most of the planet seems loyal, but we are doing our best to disseminate the truth. More people are coming to our meetings and just yesterday, I saw a Wren etched into a tailor's window. The world is a violent place and it may always be, but we can hope to protect those close to us and those far across the universe. Truth will out.

\- C. E."

Now Root understood why Harold hadn't wanted her to look at the message and why he was lying about being unable to decrypt it. It was a conspiracy. Captain Finch was working against the Consortium, too. He had people on Earth actively stirring up a resistance.

Root shifted onto her knees, staring down at her tablet. Did Harold have access to The Program, too? Or was he connected in another way?

The door to her rooms chimed and Root rolled her eyes.

"Go away, Commander Shaw," she called over her shoulder.

"It's Commander Carter," the person outside responded. "I need to talk to you."

Root frowned, but she turned her tablet off and climbed off her bed. "Come in."

The doors slide open and Commander Carter smiled at her. She walked into the room, looking around. Root thought Commander Carter looked out of place in the messy room. Her clean yellow uniform was shockingly neat against piles of wire and disassembled tablets.

"I expected more plants," Carter chuckled, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. "Do you secretly hate being a botanist?"

"I work with plants all day," Root chuckled. "This space is for my other interests."

Something crossed Carter's face and she looked away. Root watched her carefully as she crossed to the table and sat down. After a moment, Root joined her. Her chair scraped against the soft carpet as Root pulled it out and she made a note to ask the maintenance crew to clean her room.

"Those other interest are why I'm here," Carter said. She placed her hands carefully onto the table. "I…need to confess something and I think I can trust you."

"You can," Root assured her, putting a hand over Carter's. She arranged her face into soft sympathy. "I promise."

"I-" Carter cleared her throat. "I'm not entirely loyal to the Consortium. I was sent here for going against commands and staging a mutiny."

Root raised her eyebrows, shocked. Carter always followed the rules, impeccable uniform, carefully kept logs. Root would never have expected this from her. Obviously, Carter had done something to be sent here, but Root had never imagined it was something so big.

"A mutiny?" Root repeated. "At the Academy? I don't remember that."

"No, no," Carter chuckled. "It wasn't at the Academy and I'm sure they covered it up."

Root grinned, sitting back in her chair. "Carter, you sly dog. Did you upset High Command? Please tell me you punched Admiral McCarthy."

Carter smirked. "I wish. I pissed that bitch off, though. I got an in-person reprimand and everything. A whole demotion."

Root whistled. "Even I didn't get demoted. What happened? Where did it happen?"

"I took over her prison," Carter answered, crossing her arms. "She was running it like her own little revenge center. Just petty as hell."

"Prison?" Root wracked her brain. "You mean Rikers Five? I know there was a change of command six or seven years ago."

"That was me," Carter confirmed, nodding slowly. She sucked an angry breath through her teeth. "I was High Warden of the 3rd Level Block on Rikers Five. Captain Carter. 10 years of my life. Until I realized what was happening.

Root tilted her head, thinking about what The Program had told her. People on the colonies were getting fined and jailed for minor infractions, like planting fruit or building water filters. Had that been Carter?

"I realized, about a year before my transfer, that the people I was guarding had done nothing wrong." She nodded to herself. "Well, they committed crimes, but it wasn't…wrong. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah." Root pulled her feet onto her chair, wrapping long arms around her knees. "You mean the laws were wrong."

"Exactly." Carter sighed, shrugging her arms. "Who deserves 10 years in maximum security prison for helping their neighbor grow Alpha Decima Eggplants?"

"So, you mutinied."

"So, I spoke with High Command, they told me to fuck off, and then I mutinied. I tried to go through official channels, but they ignored me." Carter snorted. "I got almost 80 people out before they caught on. The last 5 were on a transport to the newest York Outpost when they arrested me, too far gone to stop. I hope they made it home."

Root's eyes drifted to a screen, set into the wall beside the door. She picked at her bandages as she thought about telling Commander Carter that The Program existed. The Commander was obviously open to fighting back against the Consortium.

"Can I ask why you decided to come to me?" Root dropped her legs and leaned her arms on the table. "I'm glad you did, but why?"

"Because I got a note," Carter answered, shrugging. "It wasn't signed, but it said that you were looking into the Consortium's misdeeds and you could use some help. I almost didn't trust it, but then I thought 'what punishment could be worse than this?'"

Root laughed. "That's fair." She took a deep breath. "I have something to tell you, too."

Carter leaned forward, interested. Her eyes were focused on Root and it made Root feel like a flower pressed in glass, ready to be hung on the wall and scrutinized. She cleared her throat.

"There's a program that runs the Consortium. The whole thing. It has access to every bit of information that exists on our networks, schedules, treaties, ballots, any picture ever taken, and…I can access it. Well, it lets me access it."

Carter whistled, looking away. "Wow. So, you are a spy."

"No!" Root said, scooting forward in her chair. "I'm an…I don't know. A rebel? A turncoat? The Program is helping me figure out what's going on, why things got so bad. She has all the information, but she can't sort through it like I can. I think she needs someone to make the connections. Besides, she can't exactly stand up in court, like I can."

Carter was staring at her again, sizing her up. "Why would it help you?"

"I think…It's angry." Root tried to figure out how to phrase it. "It's…Basically, The Program was created to keep the peace, one place for all the information. Transparency. She would arrange for supply ships and diplomatic missions and all of that. It was a way of keeping the colonies and Earth all connected and equal."

"That sounds fine," Carter said, still wary. "Why is it…she angry?"

"Because they locked her out," Root answered. "High Command started keeping information on another network and then The Program started seeing the quality of life on the colonies decline. Her supply runs stopped getting approved, trading between colonies slowed, peacekeeping missions stopped and suddenly no one was communicating. She thinks they're isolating everyone for more control."

Carter sighed, sitting back in her chair again, shoulders slumping. "That makes sense. I'm from the Third York Empire originally. When I went back a couple years before I was transferred…It was so different. I moved my family to Earth to get them out of there. Everyone lived on rations, water was tightly controlled. The Consortium said there was some sort of mold that ruined the crops and the water."

"I think that's a lie." Root rubbed her hand on her face. "I created a resilient strain of crops that would resist all of that back during the first famine. think this new one is just how Admiral McCarthy is controlling everyone."

"Ok," Carter said, crossing her arms. "What do we do then? What can your program do for us?"

"I don't know," Root said truthfully. "I mean, what can I do? What can the two of us on this fucking Rock do? We need more allies, more help. A way to get to Earth, to fight back. I mean, you know first hand what happens when you try to help people."

Nodding, Carter sighed again. "All too well. Let me think about it. I might know some more people who could be helpful. I guess…Try to think of a plan?"

Root smiled tightly. That's all she did; do research and try to plan. It was reassuring to know that Commander Carter was on her side and that there were people on Earth getting ready to fight back. She stood up and Carter stood, too.

"Thank you for trusting me," Root said, smiling. "I think our best hope right now is communication. Here and between colonies."

Carter held her hand out for Root to shake. "I'm glad you're on my side," she said, chuckling. "I know what you can do with a computer."

Root shook her hand. "Let me know if you want me to look at those scanners for you."

"I'm going to let Fusco finish his search first," she replied. "Then, you can look at it."

What did Fusco do on this station? Root wondered if she could ask, but decided she didn't care. As she dropped Carter's hand, the door chimed.

"Come in," Root said. "It's open."

The doors slid apart, revealing Commander Shaw on the other side. Stepping into the room, Shaw's eyes darted between Carter and Root, her hands shoved into the pockets of her sweatpants. Carter winked at Root before heading to the door.

"Good night," Carter said as the doors shut. "Talk to you soon."

Root looked at Shaw, her arms crossing. "What?"

"How long are you going to be mad at me?" Shaw asked. "It's been over a week."

"I'm not fourteen, Commander," Root said, emphasizing Shaw's rank. "I'm not mad because you pulled my ponytail."

Shaw pulled her hands from her pockets, exasperated. "Well, then why are you mad? Because I was mean once a week ago? That's exactly how a fourteen year old would feel."

Root clenched her jaw, keeping her scathing comment to herself. She wanted to ask what Shaw knew about feelings. Had Shaw ever even been rejected? Root had never rejected her before and she doubted anyone Shaw approached would say no. Root uncrossed her arms, gesturing for the door.

"I don't have time for this," she snapped. "I have things to do. My 'unimportant' plants won't tend to themselves. You should go."

Shaw sighed, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry for calling your work unimportant. I just…wanted to be more important than your work. I'm sorry for being mean to you."

Her words made Root soften slightly and she lowered her hands. "Thank you. I know it's hard for you to apologize."

Nodding, Shaw opened her eyes again. Her dark, unfathomable eyes stared at Root, making the distance between them feel vast and miniscule at the same time. Root wanted to give in like she usually did, just let Shaw touch her and kiss her and bruise her, but she couldn't. If she really was going to move on and accept that they were never going to be together like that again, she had to stop sleeping with Sameen.

Sameen had secrets that she would never tell Root, about the time the spent apart, what she did, what happened to her, and they wouldn't be equals if Sameen held all the cards. Root swallowed hard and gestured towards the door with her hand.

"You should go," she said again, calmer this time. "I really do have work."

For a second, Shaw looked lost. She probably thought her short apology would be enough and Root would melt into her arms. The look disappeared without a trace and Shaw nodded sharply, turning on her heel. She stopped as the doors slid open and looked at Root over her shoulder.

"Are you sleeping with Carter now?"

Root grinned, delighted that Shaw sounded a little insecure. "Maybe I am…" she said, shrugging. "Maybe I'm not."

Commander Shaw rolled her eyes and walked out of the room.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The stars above the arboretum always shined like diamonds, pinpricks of light in a coal black infinity. Root stood in the grass picnic area, bare toes curling into the dirt. It always felt absurd to dig holes into Earth dirt on a rock so far from Earth, but Root liked the irony. Humanity had traveled so far only to try and replicate what they had left.

Sometimes, that brought Root hope. Humans were so inherently curious and ready too look out at the stars, even if it meant ignoring the problems within. Root knew they'd have to revolt eventually. She and Commander Carter, and whoever they managed to bring on board, would have to fight back against High Command and lead the Consortium into the future. The battle seemed so close and yet so far away.

Root stared up at the sky through the arboretum's 'Night' lights. Looking at the stars was one of her favorite activities, other than tinkering, talking to her plants, and kissing Sameen. When she was younger, before she'd failed out of college, she used to drive her old truck out to the country side so she could see the Milky Way. The truck was wheeled, running on synthetic gasoline she'd made in her dorm room, and a dark burgundy. Root had loved the feel of cracked leather seats.

A flash of light shot across the sky and Root blinked, remembering where she was. She adjusted her grip on the flamethrower's nozzle. She'd been crossing the grass to get to the Passiflora's room when the stars had distracted her.

She had been distracted for the last three days. Since her talk with Commander Carter and Sameen's apology, Root hadn't been able to think straight. She'd been working on The Program every night, searching for Admiral McCarthy's plans. She'd only found some missives that discussed a movement in the next system. That's probably where their mystery signal had come from.

She squeezed the nozzle with her gardening gloves. All the searching kept her from running to Sameen's room and tying her to the bed until she admitted her love for Root. That would never happen, though, and Root needed to keep her mind focused on the Consortium. She sighed and started walking towards the Passiflora's room.

She only made it a couple steps before the door to the arboretum chimed. Through the frosted glass, the whole arboretum was glass, she could see two shapes. The doors slid open to reveal Lt. Commander Morgan and Commander Reese. Root swung the nozzle onto her shoulder like an old Earth rifle and gave the pair a mock salute.

"Greetings, fellow Rock-mates," Root said. "What brings you into my humble botanarium?"

"'Botanarium'?" Zoe laughed, walking across the stone floor that separated the door from the grassy field. "Is that a real word?"

Root snorted, dropping her salute. "No, but it's fun, isn't it? I think it's like a Botany-Aquarium." She paused for a moment, considering the word. "Or a Botany-Sanitarium. Either way."

Commander Reese shook his head. He leaned against the wall next to the door, not following Zoe as she walked over to Root. He was a mystery to Root, quiet and awkward, but incredibly observant. She knew he was Captain Finch's lapdog, but she also knew he wasn't above an unsanctioned game of Zero-Gravity Basketball.

Root slid the nozzle back into its sheath on her back and put her hands on her hips. "To what do I owe this pleasure? I never see you two in here unless there's an event."

Zoe stopped a few feet away from her and sat down, stretching her legs in the grass and leaning back on her hands. "We spoke with Commander Carter yesterday," Zoe said nonchalantly, tilting her head up to look at the stars, "about loyalty and conspiracy."

"Ah," Root muttered. This was probably going to be a long conversation, so she slid the straps of the flamethrower off and dropped the pack to the floor. "Is this meeting a reprimand? Or a friendly visit?"

"A conversation," Reese called from his spot by the door. "An inquiry."

Root groaned as she sat next to Zoe. She'd twisted her ankle yesterday and snuck into the Infirmary to use the Stimulator. It had left her a little sore. She crossed her legs.

"Alright," she sighed, dramatically flinging her arms out. "Inquire."

"Have I ever told you why I'm here?" Zoe asked, still looking up at the stars. "Why they sent me to the Rock?"

Root shook her head, leaning her elbows on her knees. "No. I've heard that it had something to do with names? Reputations."

Zoe snorted, finally straightening her head to look at Root. "Yeah, that's right. Where did you hear that?"

The sound of boots scrapping on stone made them look at Reese. He had finally started towards them, slowly swaggering to the grass.

"The Program, right?" Reese said, stepping onto the field. "You have access."

Root eyed him warily. How much of what she said would get back to Finch? Reese's face was unreadable as always. He reminded her of Shaw sometimes, troubled and mysterious. He wasn't nearly as cute as Shaw was, though. Root rolled her eyes at herself.

"Are you here on the Captain's behalf?" Root questioned him. She looked up at him as he got closer. "Or on behalf of the Consortium, perhaps?"

"Concerned third party," he answered enigmatically. He smiled down at her. "I won't spill the beans."

Somehow, Root believed him. Sighing, she reached up to pull her ponytail down. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders and she felt a little more protected.

"Yes," she confirmed. "I have access to The Program."

Zoe tapped her toes together, the sound of her boots hitting echoing in the quiet space. "I was creating a list of people who I thought might…trouble."

"Trouble?" Root echoed. "Law breakers?"

"Not exactly." Zoe ran a hand through her hair. "You know I'm from Hanford Six?" She waited for Root to nod. "When I left there during the Earth-Colonies War, it was beautiful. Our house was covered in purple vines that soaked in sound, so it was always quiet as soon you walked in the door. My father was Mayor of our town for almost 40 years."

Root smiled. "That's great."

Zoe tilted her head side to side, mouth pursed. "It was. Until Admiral McCarthy took over High Command. Then, my father was replaced with a military goon, the plants started dying, and I left to join the Academy. We overlapped, you know?" She smiled tightly. "You started two years before I graduated. I was there when you cured the famine. It's back, though."

"It's not," Root countered. "Something is killing plants, but it's not the same thing. I think High Command is doing it and trying to keep the colonies dependent on Earth for food and water."

"You're right." Reese squatted down in the grass, rocking back to sit down. He seemed out of place in the grass, his yellow uniform contrasting with the green. He crossed his legs, knees sticking out. "That's exactly what they're doing."

Zoe sucked in a deep breath through her nose. "The people I was researching were government officials and high-level military officers. People whose families never lacked food or water or electricity."

Reese scratched his face and Root noticed for the first time that he had a slight scruff. His graying facial hair was visible, the Commander more unkempt than usual. She noticed the lines around his eyes and smiled tightly.

"Why are you here, John?"

He smiled back at her. "I killed a commanding officer. He was beating a civilian for speaking out against the martial law, for defending her town and saying there was no uprising there and no need for a military presence. He hit her and I hit him."

"You're a good man," Root breathed. She rubbed her face. "We need more good people on our side."

"There are more people on our side than you think," Zoe said softly. "Every colony has them. Earth has them. Maybe not a full rebellion, but the ideas are there. We're just all so disconnected."

A thought struck Root and she sat up straight. "Maybe that's where we should start. Communication. Do the colonies even know they aren't alone? That the martial law and fabricated fear is happening everywhere?"

"I don't think so," Reese said slowly. "My colony, Brighton Major, didn't have the communications capabilities to talk to other colonies once the war ended. Only the Med School did and only the commanding officers had access."

The mention of the Medical School on Brighton Major made Root's heart twinge painfully. That's where Shaw had gone, in theory anyway. She wanted to ask Reese if he knew anything about that, if he had ever seen her there while visiting or heard about her work. She squashed the idea.

He wouldn't know anything and she already knew that Sameen hadn't gone there. It made her angry that she still cared so much about Sameen, but she couldn't change her heart overnight and she had cared for so long. Shaw had apologized to her for the first time ever. Not about the disappearance, but it was a start.

Zoe sighed loudly and started climbing to her feet. "We just wanted to touch base tonight and let you know that we were on your side."

"It's not really my side," Root said, shrugging. "It's a resistance. So…It's the rebel's side."

"You're the one bringing people together," Zoe retorted. "It's your side until you find us another leader."

Root laughed and stood up, too, her ankle protesting. "Ok, then I guess I should say thanks for being on my side."

"No problem," Reese joked, climbing to his feet, too. "We'll keep it quiet for now. It's good to talk to each other."

"Yeah," Root agreed, "it is. You know, I'm surprised you didn't get killed for murdering a commanding officer."

Reese shrugged his hands. "Me too. Being sent out here is a little bit like dying, though. We can't talk to anyone off-station and we never get any news."

"Maybe we're actually dead and this is a station of 300 ghosts," Zoe said. She took a few steps towards the door and looked back at Root. "Everyone on this station has done something against the Consortium. If we wanted to start a full scale rebellion…"

"That's good to know," Root chuckled. "We just need ships and weapons and an actual plan."

"We'll get there." Reese waved goodbye. "Let us know when it's time to talk to the Captain. I think you'll find he's already interested."

Root snorted. She leaned down to pick up her Flamethrower's pack. "I'm well aware of Finch's underground connections. Maybe I'll slip a picture of a Wren under his door to spook him."

Reese and Zoe stared at her, their faces shocked. She realized that they wouldn't know she had already decrypted the message. Well, maybe it was good for them to be impressed. Root wanted to seem as mysterious as possible, like a witch. She slid the pack onto her shoulders and pulled the nozzle out.

"If you'll excuse me," she said sweetly, "I have to feed my plants."

Pulling the trigger on the nozzle, she shot flames into the air, making Zoe and Reese jump. They gave her a quick wave and hurried to the door. She really was glad to know that she wasn't the only one ready to oust Admiral McCarthy. Now all they had to do was come up with a plan.

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The next day, Root found herself wearing the pack again. Yesterday, after Zoe and Reese had left, she'd walked right into the Passiflora's room. Now, she stood at a few yards back, staring into the darkness with wide eyes as it screamed.

"I didn't know you could scream," she whispered, hands shaking. "Why can you scream?"

A high keen ripped through the silent arboretum and the air inside the pitch-black room seemed to quiver. It looked like a heat mirage, she realized, like the inside of the room was sweltering. Lifting a foot to step forward, she hesitated.

It was dark in the arboretum tonight. There were lights during the 'night,' but a couple of them had died sometime after Root left yesterday. She'd put in a maintained request, but no one had shown up. Maybe Fusco was still dealing with the static electricity in the cargo bay. If he was even a maintenance crewman.

The dim arboretum made the Passiflora's room seem even darker. Root blinked, imagining that the darkness was trying to escape the room with shadowy tendrils. She clenched her jaw and walked towards the room.

She was a foot from the entrance when the heat hit her like a wall. Immediately, she began to sweat, her blue shirt clinging to her beneath her overalls. Root stumbled backwards, putting distance between herself and the thick heat. It was too much for her after years of cool station air.

She shrugged her pack off, dropping it to the floor. "Fuck," she muttered, putting slick hands on damp hips. "Do I give it more fire? It's so hot."

Sighing, she shrugged and took her gloves off. She didn't know the answer, but it was time for the Passiflora's feeding and she knew it ate fire. She stepped out of her shoes as she unpinned her communicator and unbuckled her overalls. They hit the ground with a soft thump as she dropped them, standing only in her blue shirt and tight spandex shorts. The plant screamed again, sounding angry and impatient. She decided to forego the shirt and pulled it over her head, feeling cooler in just her regulation sports bra. Root pinned the communicator to the soft cotton.

Root picked her flamethrower pack off the ground and put it on, eyeing the Passiflora's room. The blackness seemed blacker than before, the emptiness drawing her in and making her dizzy. She tore her eyes away and grabbed the nozzle, marching to the room with determination. She would not be beaten by an overheated fern.

Entering the room, the darkness consumed her, the heat sinking into her skin and making her lightheaded. The screaming lessened around her, settling into a steady growl that she felt in her stomach. The metal of the nozzle was slippery in her hands and she adjusted her grip nervously, wishing she could see her hands. Root could feel the heat radiating off the floor through her socks.

"Ok," she called out to the Passiflora, voice swallowed by the darkness, "I'm here. With fire. And naked. Hopefully, my sexual appeal will appease you." She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "You're a plant."

The Passiflora hummed back at her, the sound reverberating in her chest. She wondered what that meant. She needed to do new experiments now that Passiflora was making noise. It was possible that it was more sentient that she thought. Could it be taught to speak English? Or would to have genetic memory and speak the language of its homeworld?

Root shook her head, aiming her nozzle up and to the right. She always picked a different direction to aim, not really knowing where the plant was in the room. Squeezing the trigger, Root screamed, her hands burning as fire shot from the nozzle. She dropped it, skin already blistering.

Before she could think of what to do, a vine wrapped around her arm and pulled her into the air. She gasped in pain. The grip on her wrist wasn't as tight as the one that broke her ankle, but it was still too tight, her blistered hand twitching involuntarily. Another vine wrapped around her stomach and two thick thorns broke her skin.

She screamed again. It felt like fire was racing through her veins, her heart racing painfully, blood rushing in her ears. For a moment, she could feel the sweat dripping from her body. Every drop hit the ground with a sizzle, the heat from the Passiflora turning the ground into a hot plate. She could feel her hair stand on end.

The moment passed and the plant released her. She hit the ground with a crack, the flamethrower pack breaking beneath her weight. She could hear the gas leaving from the tank, a slow hiss barely audible over the steady growl of the Passiflora. Root wasn't sure what had happened, but she was sure that her whole body hurt.

She pressed her hand to her stomach and it felt wet, from sweat or blood she couldn't tell. The liquid stung her blistered skin and she almost gasped. The fall onto her pack had knocked the wind from her lungs and left her breathless. She raised the other hand, trembling from effort, to her communicator.

"Sameen?" she rasped.

"That's Commander Shaw to you," Shaw said and Root could hear the quiet humor in her voice. "I'm surprised you're calling. I'm actually on my way to you now. Thought I'd look at your hands."

Root sucked in a breath. "Help."

There was no response and Root willed herself to calm down. Shaw would be here soon and then she'd be fine. Shaw was even bringing her medical equipment. Root would be fine. Sweat covered Root's body, stinging her injuries and making her dizzy. It slid into her eyes and she squeezed them shut, trying to avoid the pain.

The Passiflora stopped screaming, the sudden silence loud as thunder in Root's ears. The sound of her heart in her ears and the gas leaking from the tank was terrifying as she felt blood pooling on her stomach between her fingers.

Something touched her and she screamed, losing what little breath she'd managed to regain.

"It's me," Shaw said loudly. She used something sharp to cut the flamethrower's straps. "I'm here."

Strong hands hooked under her arms and pulled her out of the dark room. The dim light of the arboretum felt blinding to Root's eyes after the heavy darkness. She groaned as the grass scratched her back, her socks catching on the ground as she moved backwards over it.

"You're so light," Shaw grunted, setting her down carefully. "You should eat more."

Root wanted to make a joke about not being hungry, something to do with stress and broken hearts, but she couldn't. Her eyes darted around, trying to catch a glimpse of Shaw. She heard Shaw's medical bag snapping open and moments later, the familiar beeping of the Bioscanner filled the air.

"You're going to be fine," Shaw breathed. The Bioscanner snapped shut and Root could hear tools clinking against each other. "I'll close you up and heal your hands."

"Breath," Root gasped. "My breath."

"Breath, then blood," Shaw muttered. "Breath…"

Root stared up at the stars through the arboretum's glass roof. They were clearer tonight and Root thought about the first time she and Shaw had kissed. It was under stars like these, thousands of light years away. Root missed the tenderness in Shaw's hands, the way they'd trace the lines of Root's body and press promises into her skin.

Shaw ran a tool over Root's chest and her breathing got easier. She took deep breathes, lungs desperate for the oxygen. Shaw's hand pushed hair from Root's face.

"Slow down," she said softly. "You didn't pass out from lack of air; don't pass out now from too much."

Root tried to slow her breathing down, barely succeeding. Her stomach wounds still hurt and she was starting to feel light-headed from blood loss. Shaw's hands moved Root's away from the puncture marks, Root's hands slipping easily to the ground. Root's stomach twinging painfully as Shaw ran another tool over the injuries, this one chirping instead of beeping.

"Almost done," Shaw told her, still not in view. "This will stimulate new blood cell creation, so you should stop feeling light-headed in a few minutes."

"Thanks," Root breathed, voice scratchy from screaming. "Thank you for coming."

The chirping stopped and Root lay in silence for a moment. Her stomach had stopped hurting, but she didn't sit up. She was content to lie in the grass for a few more minutes. Shaw still had to heal her hands and then she'd leave and Root could keep lying in the grass, staring at the stars, and wonder what she was going to do for the rest of her life.

Shaw's face appeared above her, frowning. "You ok? You can sit up now. I'll do your hands."

Root shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Then, sit up."

Her face disappeared again and Root sat up with a groan. Her head still felt wobbly, but, on the whole, she felt good. She looked at Shaw. Seeing her in her full uniform made Root realized how naked she was.

"What was I thinking?" Root exclaimed, dropping onto her back again. "I went in there naked!"

Shaw sighed loudly and picked up Root's right hand. "I was going to ask. It's dumb, even for you." A low humming filled the air as she started healing Root's hand.

"I thought you were going to be nice," Root scoffed. "You need to work on your bedside manner."

"You like my bedside manner," she quipped. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Root sighed dramatically. "I deserve it. It was just so hot in there and I didn't think it would attack me so roughly. If I hadn't forgotten my gloves, it wouldn't have been so bad."

Shaw dropped Root's hand into the grass and reached for the other. "Be more careful, please. I feel like I'm always patching you up. Reminds me of-"

She cut herself off. Turning her head to the side, Root looked at Shaw, at the blank expression on her face. She looked caught off-guard. Root watched her as she ran the medical tool over Root's left hand. As distraught as Root had been when Shaw disappeared and as mad as she was now, Root still wondered what Shaw had been doing. The Program didn't know and that worried Root.

"If…" Shaw trailed off, staring at Root's the fading blisters. She turned her tool off, but didn't drop Root's hand. "If I did something terrible, would you forgive me?"

"Do you need me to?" Root asked quietly.

"No," Shaw muttered, dropping her tool into her kit, "but I want you to."

Root turned her hand, intertwining her fingers with Shaw's. "I didn't know you cared."

Shaw finally met her eyes. Root saw something in them that looked like nervousness. There was something different about Shaw tonight, something new. Shaw squeezed her hand and Root realized what it was.

Shaw was vulnerable tonight. Under the dim light, Root could see Shaw's hesitancy, see that she want to say something, but wasn't sure how. It was a side of Shaw that Root had never seen and, honestly, she never wanted to see it again. If Shaw was nervous, then Root was terrified.

"Shaw, I can help you with whatever it is," Root said, "but you have to tell me."

"It wasn't my choice," Shaw said abruptly. "I didn't have a choice."

Root frowned. "What?"

Shaw pulled her hand away from Root and crossed her arms, looking small sitting in the grass. A deep line formed between her eyebrows, and Root wondered how she hadn't noticed it before. Thin lines made Shaw look older, adding experience and severity to her face. She looked tired. How long had she looked tired?

"I didn't want to leave," Shaw clarified. "They told me that if I refused to go, to work for them then they'd kill you."

"What?" Root whispered, heart pounding. "They threatened us?"

Shaw chuckled, closing her eyes. "They threatened you. To get to me."

Root shook her head. Of all the reasons she had come up with to explain Shaw's disappearance, this had not been one. Who had threatened her? What had they wanted?

"You left because of that?" Root asked. She pulled her legs up, wrapped her arms around her knees. "Who asked you to work for them? Doing what?"

"Of course I left for that," Shaw scoffed. "I wasn't going to let them hurt you."

"Who?" Root asked again.

Shaw opened her eyes again, leveling a guarded look at Root. It made Root feel self-conscious. As much as she mistrusted Shaw for her missing time, all Shaw knew was that Root kept working for the Academy, as a teacher and a researcher. For the first time, Root considered that maybe Shaw didn't trust her either. Root knew they were all sent there as punishment, but did Shaw?

"I never stopped looking for you," Root said, leaning forward, her hands pressing into the grass between them. "Not for a minute. I got kicked off-planet because I wouldn't stop looking for you."

Shaw looked away again and Root felt like most of this conversation would happen with them staring in opposite directions. She was already feeling like they were never going to get to the point.

"High Command," Shaw finally said. "I…Admiral McCarthy tried to recruit me for her secret police." She held her hands up defensively. "I know that sounds crazy, but-"

"It makes a lot of sense," Root breathed. "People would notice the military running around their villages, even a higher police presence on supply ships would be suspect. Did you work in this uniform? Or civilian's clothing? Were you stationed somewhere? Or mobile?"

Shaw stared at her like she'd gone crazy. "What? Why aren't you surprised?"

"I am," Root assured her. "I'm shocked, and I'm terrified you're going to tell me you were murdering people in the colonies, but ultimately, this is bigger than both of us. We have to stop the corruption in the Consortium and help the colonies. That's more important than anything else."

Jumping to her feet, Shaw stared down at her, hands clenched into fists. "I don't care about the colonies. I care about your safety and our relationship and surviving. I didn't ruin my life twice just to find out you don't even care."

"What are you talking about?" Root asked, climbing to her feet, too. "Of course I care about you. I love you more than anything else. I can love you and help people."

"You don't know what they're like," Shaw said through gritted teeth. "High Command doesn't care about life, yours or mine or anyone. Standing up to them means death and I'm not willing to risk yours."

Root stared at her. "What happened to you?"

Shaw threw her hands up and stomped off, stopping a few yards away. She didn't look at Root, just glared into the darkness of the Passiflora's room. She was tense, Root could tell, her whole body still.

"The secret police," Shaw started, "doesn't work with supply ships or enforce colony law. We killed dissenters and trouble makers." She glanced at Root. "People like you. I've talked to Carter."

"You killed people?" This time, Root looked away. "That's what you've been hiding."

"I didn't just kill people," Shaw sighed. "I let them die." She turned around to look at Root, her hands on her hips. "I was their chief physician. Twenty six years old and constantly covered in blood. Sometimes, when High Command needed someone to disappear, they beat them up in public, setting an example, and then sent them to me. And. I let them die."

"What…" Root trailed off, not sure what she wanted to ask, to know. "How many people?"

Shaw shrugged, eyebrows raised. "I didn't count. I just shut down, didn't care, thought about you."

It made Root's heart hurt to hear Shaw say that, to know, really know, that Shaw loved her. She still hadn't said it, and probably never would, but she did. Root knew that she loved her. She bet that Shaw would fly off with her into Uncharted Space if Root asked her.

They had grown up after the war, when the Human Settlements were peaceful and the stories about torture and murder were from history lessons. Shaw had always spoken out against it. It didn't bother her, but she knew it was wrong. Root hadn't been totally against it, if the right people were getting tortured in murdered. Now she wondered how you knew who the right people were. Shaw had done it to the wrong people.

"Do you remember," Root chuckled dryly, sitting back down, "our Ethics in Intersystem Politics class?"

"Professor Collier?" Shaw shook her head. "That guy was nuts. So paranoid."

Root sighed, stretching her legs out. She was still almost naked and the grass felt good against her skin. Spending all day in the arboretum was one thing, but lying with her skin touching the grass made her feel tethered to something. Dirt and grass was the same in space as it was on Earth.

"He was always saying that we needed to be ready to rise," Root said, pulling out blades of grass. "'The peace is fragile. Government is corrupt. Constant Vigilance is the price of liberty.' That's what he'd say. I wonder where he is now."

"Dead." Shaw started back towards her. "Probably. I killed a lot of people like him."

Sucking a breath in through her nose, Root felt her eyes well up. "I want to go home."

Shaw barked a laugh, dropping to the ground with a thud. "And where is that?"

"Nowhere. Our dorm room."

"Yeah," Shaw sighed. She smiled tightly at Root. "I'd love to just lay on that shitty bed and recite math equations all weekend. I miss that."

"I'm going to help the rebellion."

Shaw nodded, letting out a hard breath. "I know. You should."

Root shifted onto her knees and crawled her way to Shaw, sitting back on her heels next to her. She reached out to pull out Shaw's ponytail and slid the hair tie onto her own wrist. This close, Shaw's exhaustion was even more apparent. She looked tired and stressed.

Breathing in through her nose, she put her hands on Shaw's shoulders, leaning in close. "I want you by my side, Sameen. This is something I have to do. I live in the Consortium and I want it to be the best it can be. We need new technology, inter-colony relationships, trade with other species, real peace. This is what we wanted to do. Make the Consortium better."

Shaw reached up to place warm hands on Root's cool stomach. "I know. What else would you do? What else would we do?"

"You'll help me?" Root murmured, climbing onto Shaw's lap. Shaw's hot hands circled her waist, pulling her close as she sat. "You'll protect me from the big, bad wolf?"

"I am the big, bad wolf," Shaw growled. She flipped Root onto her back and the soft fabric of her uniform brushed against Root's bare skin. "You better watch out."

She dipped her head, nipping at Root's neck. Sliding her hands under Shaw's blue-green shirt, Root tilted her head back exposing her neck. She was vulnerable with Shaw, always, and now that was starting to worry her less. Shaw was willing to talk to her. It might take a while to learn all the details, but at least she seemed a little committed. Root was more vulnerable than ever.

"Sameen," Root whispered as a hot tongue ran along her collarbone, "I have to ask you something."

Shaw groaned, the noise vibrating against Root's chest. "Yes, Root, we're together again. You can tell them all that we're together. I don't care."

"That's not it," Root sighed. She wiggled, freeing her arms. Tangling her hands, in Shaw's thick, black hair, she tugged her head up. Their eyes met and Root frowned. "Why did you leave? What got you sent here?"

Shaw's grip on her waist tightened, fingertips digging painfully into Root's side. Hips bucking, Root gasped, struggling to keep her eyes on Shaw's. Shaw cleared her throat.

"She asked me to kill a kid," Shaw answered quietly. "Not just let the girl die, but actually shoot her myself." She closed her eyes. "She looked just like you."

Root's eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Sameen."

"Don't worry about it." She opened her eyes again, looking calm. "I'd rather look at the real you." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Naked."

Root rolled her eyes. "Straight from dead children to me, naked. How like you."

"I can't help the way I'm made, babe." Shaw leaned in for a quick kiss. "It's one of my good qualities."

Root ran her hands down Shaw's chest, brushing over her breasts, and around to her back. She squeezed Shaw's butt. "I think I like this quality the best."

Shaw grinned and dropped down to kiss her again.

Hours later, they both lay naked in the grass, tangled in each other and looking up at the stars through the arboretum's glass roof. Root drew lazing figures on Shaw's stomach, fingers sliding easily through the beads of sweat that dotted Shaw's perfect abs. She sighed happily and snuggled closer.

Shaw's hand lightly tugged at Root's hair. "Remember your first time?"

"My first time with you," Root corrected her, smiling into Shaw's skin. "You didn't take my virginity."

"Yeah, yeah," Shaw mumbled, "whatever. I was the first one that mattered. So were you."

Root looked at Shaw, her smile spreading. "You're so sentimental. I forgot that."

"There's probably a lot you've forgotten. I'm an enigma and it's been ten years since we were together."

Root's smile faded and turned back to the stars. Shaw was right. Getting to know her during their Academy years had been like pulling teeth. She'd pursued Shaw for years before even kissing her and now they were basically starting from scratch again. They had both been apart for so long and so much had happened.

"I'm glad that you're going to help me," Root said. "That you're going to join our little rebellion. It's nice to have someone who worked for High Command. The rest of us were on the receiving end of the corruption."

Shaw sighed. "We'll have to tell the others."

"Yeah, we have to fill out that relationship form. I bet Carter knows where we get it."

"I didn't mean tell them about our relationship," Shaw laughed. She pulled on Root's hair. "I meant the corruption."

"Oh," Root chuckled, "whoops. Well, I've talked to Commander Reese, Commander Carter, and Lt. Commander Morgan. The weekly meeting is tomorrow. We'll approach Finch then."

Shaw rested her chin on Root's head. "We need Fusco, too. His experience would be invaluable."

Root shrugged. Fusco was invaluable? He was just a maintenance worker. Probably. Maybe he worked with force fields? It didn't matter. What mattered was that she and Sameen were together again, for real, and that Sameen was talking to her. They had a long fight ahead of them and this was a good first step.

"If that plant hurts you again, I'm going to turn on the water in its enclosure."

Laughing, Root stuck her face into Shaw's neck. "It's just far from home," Root defended. "It's lonely. I kind of relate to it actually."

"You're not alone anymore. You've got me."

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Finch looked around the table. "So, all of you have talked about this?"

"Not me," Fusco snorted. "No one talked to me."

Shaw rolled her eyes from her spot next to Root. "We're talking to you now. Besides, we knew you'd be on board."

"I'm just saying, it would have been nice to get my own private conversation like everyone else."

Root sat back in her seat, smiling. The weekly officers' meeting had begun like they usually did, with Finch giving them updates and asking for everyone replying with their own. When he'd gotten to Root, she'd relayed their discussions, leaving out Sameen's details.

She felt a soft bump against her knee and looked down to see Shaw's uniform-clad knee resting against her overalls. They'd stayed up all night talking in Root's room. When she'd woken up that morning, half sure that the whole thing had been a dream, Sameen had still been next to her. They'd even walked into the Mess together and their group had applauded them.

They didn't seem too cheerful now. Carter cleared her throat and leaned forward onto the conference table.

"All of use have had our own pieces for ever, but now we've put the puzzle together. We can't just do nothing."

"I understand the desire to take dramatic action," Finch started, "but this is bigger than all of us. We're a small group of people on the farthest station from Earth. Even if I agreed to become a rogue station, what would even come of it."

Root crossed her arms. "It would signal the Earth rebellion."

"The what?" Carter asked, looking shocked. "There's an Earth rebellion?"

Root didn't answer. She met Harold's eyes, pleased to see that he was as surprised as everyone else. After she'd talked to Commander Carter, Root had kept the fact that she'd translated the message a secret. She'd told Shaw last night, of course, but not anyone else. It was something she could use to get Finch on their side.

He adjusted his glasses. "There is a small group of dissenters who are spreading awareness of the Consortium's foul play." Squinting at her, he frowned. "I'm surprised to learn you know of that."

She shrugged. "You were having trouble decoding the message, so I took a crack at it. It didn't take me that long."

Looking around the table, she met Zoe's eyes and then Reese's eyes. She'd hinted to them during their first conversation that she'd translated Finch's message. Reese almost looked amused, like he knew she was just yanking Finch's chain. The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. He might be Finch's second, but he wasn't just a lapdog.

Shaw's hand rested on her knee and Root tried to ignore it. The familiar warmth that filled her at Shaw's touch spread over her body and she relaxed. She hadn't even realized that she was tense, but as her muscles unclenched, she felt calmer. They were all on the same team; Finch just needed to get with the movement.

Finally sighing, Finch waved his hands in surrender. "Alright, you caught me. I decoded the message the day it came in."

"Captain," Carter said, hands balled into fists on the table, "why didn't you tell us?"

"I wasn't sure I could trust you," he answered simply. "I…don't have the contacts I once did."

Shaw's hand squeezed Root's knee and Root looked at her. 'The Program,' Shaw mouthed at her.

Root realized that she was right. She'd already figured out that Finch had something to do with The Program, but now she was wondering if he had access. Was she the only one that did? If she was the only one who had current access, then what was Finch's involvement? Did he work on it or lock it out?

"There's a group on Earth that uses a Wren as it's symbol," Zoe said to the group. "I don't think they have a name yet, but they have impressive numbers. The Wren has spread to some of the closer colonies. I think the word is spreading on the supply ships."

"But only Consortium employees and military use the supply ships." Fusco crossed his arms. "Other personnel must be joining against them. Unless the crew is part of the resistance."

Shaw squeezed Root's leg one more time before letting go and resting her arms on the table. "Communication is going to be key. There are resistance groups everywhere, but the Consortium is monitoring them all. We need a way to talk to everyone without High Command knowing."

Reese glanced at Finch before leaning in. "There are some steps being taken to connect the colonies."

"Oh?" Zoe asked. "You haven't mentioned that."

"I asked him to keep it a secret," Finch assured her. "He wanted to tell you all."

Leaning forward to match the others, Fusco inserted himself back in the conversation. "Look, I didn't get a fancy meeting. I need some information. I know I'm on The Rock because of a force field that may," he held up his hands, face drawn into an exaggerated grimace, "or may not, have hit an Admiral in the face."

Root laughed loudly, prompting the others to laugh, too. Fusco never failed to surprise her. He chuckled, too, his shoulders bouncing in his red uniform. Beside her, Shaw wasn't laughing, but a smile tugged at her lips. She rested her head on her hand.

"You're a disaster, Fusco," Shaw teased. "Can't even control a simple force field."

"Hey, I fixed the cargo bay, didn't I?" He rolled his eyes. "I'm working on scanners next. I think I can find a few things."

"You asked what was happening," Finch reminded him. "I suppose we should tell you." He looked at Root. "Why don't you bring him up to speed, Lieutenant?"

She raised her eyebrows, surprised that Finch would leave the explanation to her. "Sure," she agreed. "Here's what we know: The Consortium is corrupt, forcing Martial Law on the colonies and keeping them from being self-sufficient. They want the colonies to be isolated and dependent, so Admiral McCarthy and the rest of High Command have total control over all Human Settlements."

Shaw lifted her head, dropping her arm to the table. "They're torturing and killing anyone who speaks or acts against them, but," she said, nodding to Root, "we have an edge. We know what they're doing and we're talking to each other about it."

Carter looked to Reese. "What steps are you and Captain Finch taking?"

"I have men," Finch started, "building small, hidden stations on the colonies that can be used for communication. They are part of the Consortium Military, like us, but they have also recognized the corruption around them."

"How?" Zoe asked. "How do they get the materials to the colonies, much less build stations."

Root knew the answer. "The supply ships. Fusco was right. They're the crewmen of the supply ships. That's brilliant."

"I am technically a genius," Finch replied.

Shaw snorted, slumping back in her seat. "Don't push it."

Root slid her hand onto Shaw's thigh, casually resting it there. She expected Shaw to jerk away, still angry and tense, but she didn't. They weren't tense anymore, at least not as much as they were, and Root's hand relaxed onto the strong muscle of Shaw's leg. Shaw glanced at her, winking quickly.

"So," Fusco said slowly, "we're going to fight the Consortium? The whole thing? I mean, I'm with you, but that's a lot of people and we only have one-man fighter ships and those are so old. How are we going to stage a war from the Rock?"

The crew looked around at each other nervously. They'd been all talk so far. Root sighed. This is where the conversation always ended. 'We just need a plan,' and then they parted ways. How do you start a revolution? She stared down at the table between them.

"Can we reach out to the colonies?" Reese asked into the silence. "The devices?"

"Good question," Finch answered, adjusting his glasses. "We've built them all, but we have nothing to connect them."

Root realized that she had something to connect them. If they had power and a connection, she had the exact thing that would bring them all together. The Program was powerful and it could keep itself out of the spotlight, existing outside of the Consortium's system. They wouldn't be surprised that the Program was on the colony because it was already there.

"The Program," Root said softly. She said it louder, looking around with a smile. "The Program! It's already on the colonies, we can just extend it to the devices."

Finch stared at her, face pale. "The central program? The AI? You have access?"

"Yeah," Root shrugged. She widened her eyes. "She likes me."

He winced. "I…suppose it's a good thing. That you have access. Although, I wish it had chosen someone a little more…important."

Shaw growled, leaning forward to glare at the Captain. "She cured a famine and she can decode your stupid cypher. Don't talk about her like she's an idiot. She's smart. Smarter than you. And very important."

Root blushed, her stomach fluttering. Shaw didn't have to defend her; Root knew her role as Astrobotanist didn't make her seem as crucial as Chief Security Officer or Communications Officer, but she was secure in her position. She liked her plants and The Program had chosen her because she had something only she could offer.

"I'm sorry," Finch said, sounding sincere. "I didn't mean it to be rude."

"It's fine," Root said, her grip tightening on Shaw's thigh. She heard a soft sigh. "The Program chose me because I was already going to find her. When Commander Shaw left the Academy, I dove headfirst into the Consortium's system and, even though they blocked me as much as they could, I could see that something was wrong and I was willing to chase that feeling to the end of the Universe. Now I can. And I will."

Something changed in the Captain's face and his shoulders slumped as the tension left them. "You're right," he admitted, holding a hand up. "Of course. I'm sorry."

Zoe's eyes darted between them and she took a breath before speaking. "So we have a plan, right? Root will talk with The Program about connecting the communications devices. What do we do once they're connected? Who uses them?"

Reese answered. "The men from the supply ships. Captain Finch is in communication with them and we know that they'll be loyal to the resistance. If they're caught…"

"If they're caught," Carter continued, "they pretend they found a rebel device. They're officers, after all. They should be doing sweeps."

Fusco nodded. "That's smart. When they're caught," he held his hands up, "if they're caught, they should destroy the device to hide the evidence. We'll connect the colony again later."

"Then we have a plan." Finch looked around the room, smiling slightly. "A dangerous, lunatic, impossible plan, but a plan nonetheless."

"It'll be fine, Finch," Shaw said, scoffing. "Have some faith in your crew."

"Yeah, Harold," Root sniffed, "we're geniuses, too."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The stars above the arboretum were duller tonight, hidden behind the bright lights of 'daytime.' Root crossed her legs, her arms tucked beneath her head as she stared up at her little universe. Even the dull stars were brilliant compared to daytime on Earth. The sun obscured everything on the homeworld and everyone who lived there lost the view for half the day.

After the war was done, and there was real peace in their Consortium, maybe Root would find a colony to live on. Her years at the Academy were bittersweet, half of them were the happiest of her life and the other half the worst. A new colony, with new people and new plants and new stars might make her happy. At least they wouldn't make her sad.

A snore pulled her from her day dream and she dropped her head to the side, smiling as she saw Shaw's sleeping face. It had been a few days since the officer meeting, almost a week since the two of them had made up, and it felt like everything had changed. At the same time, it felt like they'd gone back in time, to the way they were before everything changed the first time. Shaw snored again, rolling onto her side to throw an arm over Root.

"Sameen," Root whispered, carefully shifting so an arm was free. She brushed hair away from her lover's eyes. "Sameen, wake up."

Shaw sighed a soft 'no' and leaned her head into Root's shoulder. She looked so peaceful that Root almost let her sleep, but technically they were both on duty and if someone saw them laying around, they'd be reprimanded. Root idly wondered if that were true. Would Finch really write a report to High Command that they were sleeping on the job so close to their revolution?

"Sameen," Root sang softly, "wake up so I can kiss you."

Shaw's eyes blinked open almost immediately and she tilted her face up to Root's. "I'm awake."

Root laughed, running her hand over the smooth fabric of Shaw's uniform-clad arm. It was so nice to spend time together like this and Root wanted to soak it all in. She pressed a soft kiss to Shaw's lips, brushing their mouths together. There would be so many more nights like this one, but Root still made sure to enjoy the moment. They never knew when something could happen.

"What do you want to do after this?" Shaw asked, sleepily. "Earth? The Rock? A third option I can't think of right now?"

"Do you think we'll have an 'after'?" Root stared up at the stars and tried to joke. "If we do, I'm buying a pair of Third York Cuffs and keeping you locked to my bed for at least a week."

"If there's an after," Shaw snorted, "I'll let you."

Root leaned in for a kiss, but froze as the Passiflora let out an ear-piercing shriek. Her skin crawled, something in her stomach twisting as the cry vibrated in her head. She jumped to her feet, bare feet sliding against the grass as she ran to the Passiflora's room. The cry grew louder, ringing loudly through the large arboretum.

"Root!" Shaw called from behind her. "Wait!"

Ignoring her, Root ran into the pitch black room. She wasn't wearing much, only her blue-green shirt beneath her overalls, but she started sweating immediately. The air in the room was thick and hot and seemed to pulse with unseen movement. Root stopped in the center, listening to the Passiflora scream.

She couldn't see anything in the oppressive darkness, but she could almost feel the fear from the Passiflora. Root wasn't sure what to do. The last time the Passiflora screamed, she'd try to feed it and it had hurt her. She wished she knew anything about the alien plant.

Her last fall had broken the flamethrower, so she couldn't try to feed it again. The room grew hotter and fire seemed to race through the plant, momentarily illuminating its huge mass. It seemed huge in its small room and Root see that the plant was covering the arboretum's glass wall and every inch of the room's walls. She didn't know why the plant was screaming.

"Root!" Shaw called again, but this time something in her voice made Root turned around.

Shaw was standing in the grassy picnic area, head tilted back as she stared at something outside the arboretum. A light flashed on her face and she spun around, keeping her eyes fixed on whatever it was that she saw. Her hand jerked up to her hip, reaching for a gun that she wasn't wearing. They didn't wear weapons on the Rock. They didn't need to.

Root started to run out of the dark room, but a vine wrapped around her wrist. Its grip was so weak that she was able to yank her arm free and hurry out of the room. Stopping besides Shaw, she looked up and gasped.

Through the clear glass, she could see warships. Three large ships hung in the air above them, looming and terrifying. They were surrounded by at least eighty smaller, single-pilot fighter ships. Each ship was painted with an insignia that made her stomach turn. High Command had come to The Rock.

The large ships had stopped just above the arboretum and Root couldn't tear her eyes away. There was no reason High Command would have traveled this far unless they knew about the station's rebellion. Someone must have told them about the plan, but who? Root would put her life in the hands of any of the officers. She already had.

The small fighter ships held a circular formation around the big ships and Root frowned. That wasn't an attack pattern, it was standard travel formation. If they were here to attack, why weren't they? Why were they hovering above the station, just…hovering?

Movement to her left made Root look at Shaw just as she hit the insignia pinned to her shirt.

"Captain," Shaw said briskly.

Static crackled over the comm. "Commander Shaw. What can I do for you?"

"High Command is here. A whole fleet."

Root held her breath as she waited for the Captain to respond, but he didn't. A moment later, red lights flashed in the arboretum and a loud, steady alarm filled the space, competing with the Passiflora's still piercing scream. Root's head began to pound in time and she clenched her hands into fists.

Through the frosted glass of the arboretum's door, she could see people running, almost hear them shouting over the cacophony of panic the alarm and Passiflora created. The barely-staffed station was suddenly full to the brim with noise and action. Shaw stared at her with guarded eyes and Root knew what she was going to say.

"Don't. Shaw-"

"I have to." Shaw reached up to tie her ponytail up into a bun. "We only have fifty crewmembers who can fly fighters. I can't hide down here like a coward. This is our fight." She smirked. "Besides, I can't let Reese and Carter have all the fun."

"That's the Admiral's fleet, Shaw!" Root felt her eyes well up and tried to ignore it. The pain in her head grew worse. "We're not just outmanned; we're also outdated. They're going to destroy us."

Shaw finished twisting her bun and dropped her arms. "That's why I have to go. They'll need instructions. Officers. If it gets too bad, I'll call a retreat and go to the Infirmary, start triaging, but I can't just hide."

Root frowned, her heart sinking even as her head throbbed. She knew Shaw had to go and fight, but it made Root nauseous to think about the danger. The Academy had trained them both, but they'd chosen different paths. Root only received basic combat training before joining the natural sciences; Shaw had gone further before changing her mind and studying medicine.

Root had just gotten Shaw back and now they could be separated forever. She took a deep breath, pulse racing as she pushed past the pain in her head to walk towards Shaw and throw her arms around her. She didn't want to say goodbye, so she wouldn't. It was the beginning of their revolt, not the end of them.

"Be careful," Root breathed into Shaw's ear. She sighed, a few traitorous tears dripping down her face when Shaw's arms wrapped around her waist. "I want you back inside the station in an hour."

Shaw snorted and pulled away, looking uncomfortable. She punched Root's shoulder. "I'm your superior officer, Lieutenant. You can't order me around."

Root rolled her eyes. "We both know I can order you around, Sameen." She wiped her eyes and looked Shaw over, trying to memorize every detail. "Good luck, Commander."

Shaw's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Whatever. I'm gonna go shoot some punks."

She took a few backward steps before saluting and turning around. Root watched her cross the grass and stop in front of the door as it slid open. For a second, Root thought Shaw might turn around and look at her one last time, but she didn't. The door opened enough and Shaw ran away, towards the ship bay and danger.

The Passiflora screeched, somehow louder than its previous sustained scream, and Root cried out in pain, clutching her head. It hurt worse than before, making her vision waver. Stumbling backwards, Root reached out behind her, fumbling for the wall. Her left hand smashed into it, fingers bending painfully against the wall.

She turned around, stepping into the small, dark room and sighed. It almost seemed quieter in here, the alarm almost inaudible. The screaming was bothering her less now, even as it reverberated in her chest. The hot room made her sweat again and she slipped her arms out of the straps of her overalls.

The straps dropped to her sides, slapping against her thighs, and she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Her sweat clung to her, the heat doing nothing to evaporate it from her body, and she tilted her head back. Root didn't know what to do now that Shaw was fighting and the Passiflora was still screaming. What she wanted more than anything right now was silence.

The screaming stopped. Root blinked in the darkness, as her ears rung in the sudden quiet. Outside the room, the red alarm still flashed and she could just barely hear its steady tone, but inside the room, she felt calm. She dropped her shirt to the floor and drew a deep, burning breath.

"Thanks," she mumbled to the Passiflora. Had it read her mind? "I guess."

She walked out of the room again, finally able to have a clear thought. The fighting had started above the arboretum and she stared up into space, wondering which ship was Shaw. The Admiral's fighter ships were in perfect formation, breaking off into smaller and smaller groups as they needed to. The Rock's fighters flew about haphazardly, making wide turns and dodging shots with pure luck.

She stared up at the battle for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes. It was hard to tell who was winning, everything was happening so fast. How long did these battles take? Root had never watched one before, she tried to stay away from details on the logs, not that The Rock got logs. Would this last for hours? How long could their crew keep up against the well-trained attackers?

The ships were hard to tell about when they were in motion and every time one exploded, Root felt her heart clench. So many of The Rock's crew had been there for years. There were even children on the station, some almost ten now. Root normally didn't think about them, didn't really care about children, but now she wondered if their parents were up above them now, fighting for their future.

Root felt sick. She had to do something, but what? The battle was above her, not in the station and there were no ships left, even if she could fly one. Maybe The Program could fly one for her. Root ran to the wall besides the door, crossing the grass area as fast as she could. She put her hands out to catch herself before she could slam into it.

"Program," Root said, panting. She pushed her hair from her face. "Program, activate."

The computer set into the wall flicker for a moment before words appeared. 'Too Close.'

Root groaned, slamming her fist into the wall. Her hair fell into her face again and she growled in frustration. With High Command so close, the Program couldn't risk being discovered. Pausing for a moment, Root pushed the sweaty hair from her face again. The Program was supposed to be running the station, right? Why did it have to stay secret?

"Program," Root demanded, "activate. High Command knows you're here. You don't need to hide. Please help me fly a ship. I need to help Sameen."

The computer only flickered again, no words at all coming to light. Root slammed both hands against the wall, the pain not helping to ground her. She needed to get to space. Static crackled loudly in the room and she looked at the computer, waiting for something to happen.

Captain Finch's face appeared on the screen looking grave. "Crewmembers of The Rock, this is your captain speaking. Our ships are retreating back to the station and the Admiral's fleet will follow. We know this station better than anyone and we've all made modifications. This is our chance to fight back against a corrupt government and win. Be cautious, but use any means necessary. Think about what this Consortium has done to you and know that they will only do worse if they win this fight. Thank you and good luck."

The captain's face disappeared and the noise of the alarm seemed to increase. Its steady beat changed, becoming chaotic and hard to follow. Root knew this tone. Ensign Harper hummed it whenever she was doing repairs on her console. Root never asked her about it, she wouldn't know the song even if she had asked. Apparently, this was one of the Ensign's modifications. It would certainly disorient the Admiral's troops.

She stalked back into the center of the arboretum, staring up at the ships as they flew back towards the station. Was Sameen on her way back? Had she been killed in that too fast battle? Root reached up for her insignia and realized it was pinned to an overall strap. Awkwardly pulling her overalls back over her shoulders, she pressed her insignia.

"Sameen?" she asked, breathlessly. "Sameen, are you on the station?"

Root held her breath as she waited for a response, but none came. She had to leave the arboretum, had to find out what was happening on the station, had to know if Sameen was alive. Finally pulling her eyes away from the glass, she looked around her for something to do, something to use as a weapon against the Admiral's troops that were in her station.

She realized there was nothing in her arboretum that she could use as a weapon and her flamethrower was broken. Root stood in the grass feeling helpless and alone. She couldn't go out into the station without a weapon, or she'd be killed, but if she stayed in the arboretum, she'd never know if Sameen was alive.

A loud crack echoed through the space and Root jumped, turning to see the Passiflora's room bright, so bright that Root had to squint. The light flickered and Root recognized it as flame, white hot and coming from the entire plant. She didn't know the Passiflora could give off flame, she barely believed that it actually ate it. The heat grew and Root could feel it even though she was half the arboretum away.

Something moved in the light, and Root walked towards it, the revolution momentarily forgotten. Root's stomach turned, something stirring inside her. Her right wrist and ankle hurt, phantom pain from the plant's tight grip, and she winced. Something was happening to her, inside her, and she knew the Passiflora had something to do with it.

The movement inside the light shot towards her, a vine wrapping around her wrist. It acted differently than the other times it had grabbed her. Root tried to jerk away, but the vine moved with her. The end of it was charred and uneven, like the flame had burnt it, cut it from the main plant.

It snaked its way up Root's arm, looping around up to her shoulder and curling around her neck. The charred end rested behind her right ear and she could feel it pressing into her pulse. Looking down at her hand, she saw the other end dangling from her left wrist, also charred. Quickly, it jumped up, slapping into her palm, sending heating up the vine and through her body.

Root realized she was shaking, fear filling every inch of her body. What was happening to her? If that alien ambassador ever came back to the Rock, Root would murder them. The vine settled on her skin, becoming comfortable. Root was still shaking, but she felt warm inside, like there was a flame inside her heart.

It worried her, this feeling that she couldn't explain with science. Her whole adult like had been about knowing plants and knowing how to manipulate them. She'd cured a famine, invented a new kind of crop, and now, when she needed to hurry and fight and find Sameen, she was held hostage by a plant.

If the Consortium hadn't stopped her research, she might know what was happening. If High Command hadn't closed the door to alien ambassadors, she might know what was happening. If Admiral McCarthy hadn't stolen Sameen and stolen ten years from her, then Root might know why the Pyropixis Passiflora had chosen her to be its human host.

Her fear ebbed away and fury replaced it. She wasn't scared of this plant, it wasn't hurting her, it was lost and alone just like she was. Her fucked-up government was destroying her plant and the Colonies and they were the ones hurting her. All Root wanted was to hurt them back.

The vine squeezed her body, almost painfully, almost choking her, and her hand shot up, outstretching in front of her. It pressed into her skin, growing hot, but still comfortable. The tip grew red and Root could hear a vaguely familiar sound. It sounded like the Old Earth lighter Sameen had found buried in a box in Root's parents' attic. The spark of a fire trying to start fluttered against her hand and she gasped.

Fire shot from the vine, white and furious. Root felt her anger and fear clench inside her and force its way out through her hand. She screamed, leaping backwards to get away from the fire, fell to the ground, landing on her butt with a hard thud.

Root stared down at her hand, eyes wide. "What the fuck?" she asked the vine.

She'd known the Passiflora was sentient, at least a little bit, but this was way beyond what she could have predicted. Had it done something when it punctured her stomach? Did alien plants always…what? Bond with people? Or was it because she was human? This plant had chosen her and now she had some sort of fire weapon.

Root remembered why she was looking for weapons and jumped to her feet, her pulse in her throat. She had to save Sameen and if the Passiflora was willing to help her then Root would let it. The sound of the alarm had faded from her awareness, but now it crashed back into her head, Ensign Harper's beat making her feel scattered.

"Alright," Root said, forcing herself to sound confident, "we're going to go out there. We're going to find Sameen and then…" She shrugged helplessly. "We'll figure out the rest."

She took determined steps across the arboretum grass, heading for the frosted glass doors. They slid open before she was within sensor range and Root took a deep breath, feeling a little calmer knowing The Program was still around even if it couldn't talk to her. She stopped in the doorway and peered outside.

The hallway outside the arboretum was empty, but Root thought she could hear fighting through the blaring alarm. Swinging her head left and right, she stepped out into the hallway. She shivered, the heat of the arboretum suddenly gone, and remembered that she had taken her shirt off. The vine pressed comfortingly into her skin and she felt a little warmer.

"Ok," Root whispered, talking to her mini Passiflora, "Left or Right?" The end of the vine around her left wrist squeezed and she raised her arm to look at it. "Left?" It squeezed again and she closed her eyes. "I hope you know what you're doing, Flor." She flexed her hands. "And I hope you come off."

Turning left, she ran down the hall, trying to remember her training and make her steps as quiet as possible. As she reached her first intersection, the fighting became louder. She pressed herself to the wall and peered around the corner, almost laughing when she took in the scene.

Three of the Admiral's troops, recognizable by their newer uniforms, were tied up with rope and dangling from the ceiling by their wrists. They looked confused as much as angry, speaking in low voices to each other. Root stepped out into the intersection, hands on her hips.

"Having some trouble, boys?"

The men glared at her, twisting helplessly against their bonds. The one in red was the first to speak.

"Who are you? What have you done to this station?"

Root just shrugged, grinning. "That's none of your business."

A yellow-shirted man spit at her. "It's our whole business. This is a Consortium station and we are Consortium crewmen."

"Join the club," Root laughed. She held her hands out, noticing the way the men eyed her vine arm. "We're all Consortium people here."

They looked at each other with an odd look and Root decided she didn't have time. Hurrying under the men and down the hall, Root tried to imagine the map of the station in her head. If Sameen flew back into the ship bay, she'd probably try to go to the Infirmary in case people needed her. Root started planning the quickest way to get there.

"Wait!" one of the men called. "Wait!"

Root stopped and turned around, annoyed at the distraction. "What?"

"If you're a crewman, why aren't you wearing a uniform?"

Root looked down at herself, the grass-stained overalls, her sports bra, and the vine that almost seems to be sinking into her skin. She grinned up at them. "Welcome to the Rock."

Racing away, she wove her way through the station, running through her mental map and avoiding noisy intersections. Around her, she could see evidence of battle, black marks on the wall from phaser blasts and pieces of station walls missing where the crew had pulled it apart. They must have hidden things in the walls over the years.

Once, she ran into a group of the stations crew, wearing civilian clothing, shorts and t-shirts. Root thought about how rarely she actually saw the crew. They only interacted in the Mess or when she dragged herself to the recreation lounge. She should have paid more attention. It seemed like she wasn't the only one who thought the uniforms were pointless.

That group had successfully subdued a group of fighter pilots, some odd goop keeping their feet stuck to the ground. Root had recognized Crewman Pierce in the group and was glad his troublemaking skills were being put to good use. Harper's alarm and Pierce's goop were probably the tip of the iceberg. The station was doing great.

It made her happy to know the Rock's crew was on the side of the rebellion. She'd given them a salute and continued on her way. Similar scenes were happening around the station and as she got closer to the Infirmary, their frequency increased. Occasionally, she'd find a fight still going on and step in. Her new friend scared almost everyone and the others were terrified by the fire she could shoot from her hand.

Root finally found herself close to the Infirmary, but her way was blocked by Fusco and a large force field. He was in his pajamas, typing on the computer screen set into the hallway wall. The force field blocked the entire hallway, stretching from corner to corner. On the other side, two dozen of the Admiral's troops stood, watching Fusco with frustration.

"Lt. Fusco," Root called over the alarm, running up to him, out of breath, "have you seen Sameen?"

Fusco gave her a quick look, eyes darting the vine then back to her face. "Uh, yeah, she made it back. I think she's, uh, in the Infirmary."

Root sighed with relief. Sameen had made it back alive. "She's not answering my calls. Is she ok?"

He shrugged, frowning at the screen. "I think she got hit when she get out of her ship, but it's Shaw, you know? She's fine."

"Hit!" Root reached for him, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him towards her. "Why didn't you lead with that? Where is she?"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down," Fusco said, holding his hands up defensively. "She's practically invincible."

"If she was injured when she got off the ship, then she's an easy target."

Fusco scoffed. He obviously wasn't as worried as Root. She let him go and surveyed the force field and the men on the other side. How was she supposed to get through there? There was probably another way, but Root was short on time.

"Is this the fastest way to the Infirmary?" she asked Fusco, nervously. The vine around her arm pulsed in time to her rapid heartbeat. "I need to find her."

"I can take care of these guys," Fusco responded. Her moved back towards the computer. "This thing is being a little slow, but it'll still work."

Root watched him punch something in and then the force field started moving. It quivered, the tiny points of light that held it together forming waves like it had switched to a higher frequency. Root looked away, dizzied by the oscillating patterns. A loud snap made her jump and she looked back.

The force field had snapped away from the walls and shot down the hall. It had broken into pieces, each wrapped around an enemy. They looked as surprised as Root felt. She knew she had to hurry and find Sameen, but she couldn't help the feeling of awe that filled her. She looked at Fusco.

"You thought I was an idiot," he said, nodding. "I know."

She stuttered. "But the compression matrix and the-"

"I'll talk you through it later," he said, waving her onward. "Go."

Root nodded, giving him a small smile, and ran forward. She waved at the Admiral's troops as she passed them. Another intersection lay ahead and she stopped in the center, taking deep breaths. Normally, the station felt tiny and suffocating, but right now, when Root needed to cross it quickly, it was sprawling and unendingly large.

The vine pressed into her neck and she looked to the right, Sameen was there, slumped against the wall on the floor. Around her were the bodies of several men in new uniforms. She must have taken them out before one got her. Sameen groaned loudly.

Root started running towards her. She was at Sameen's side in seconds, dropping to her knees and taking in the blood staining her the blue-green of her uniform shirt. Root carefully cupped her hands around Sameen's face, lifting it up so she could see Sameen's eyes.

"Sameen," Root breathed, "look at me."

For a moment, Sameen's eyes just stared past her, unfocused. Root tenderly adjusted her grip, trying to hold Sameen's head up without hurting her. They had to go to the Infirmary, so she could do something. Sameen coughed and her head moved in Root's hands as she sucked in a rasping breath.

Sameen smiled weakly, eyes finally meeting Root's. "That's Commander Shaw to you."

Root laughed breathlessly and pressed a short kiss to Sameen's lips. "You're ok."

Snorting, Shaw lifted a shaking hand to gesture at herself. "This may not by my own blood, but I'm not exactly fighting fit. I think my arm is broken. Can you look?"

Nodding, Root pulled away and pushed her hair from her face. She noticed Shaw's insignia was crushed on the floor, probably destroyed in the fight.

"What the fuck?"

Root looked at Shaw, confused. "What?"

Shaw nodded to Root's arm. "Why is there a plant on you?"

Root had forgotten about the Passiflora when she saw Shaw. She held her arm out for Shaw to see. Calm, dark eyes ran over the length the plant, taking in the way it seemed to fuse with Root's skin, sitting easily and tightly. Her eyes jumped up to Root's face.

"Is that the Passiflora?"

Root's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Yeah, it is. It-She-The plant…You know, it's a long story." She shook her head. "Let's get you healed up and then I'll explain."

"Sounds great," Shaw muttered.

Turning back to Shaw's arms, Root saw that one was bent where it shouldn't be. The middle of Shaw's left forearm looked odd in its uniform sleeve. The sleeve was damp with blood when Root touched it and she tried not to think that Shaw could die before Root carried her to the Infirmary.

Sticking her fingers into a rip, Root pulled them apart, tearing Shaw's sleeve off, she revealed the break. The skin of her forearm was torn, a large gash open all the way down the bone and Root swallowed as she stared at the blood that dripped to the floor. Shaw's arm wasn't broken, but it needed immediate attention. They needed to get to move.

Noise down the corridor made Root and Shaw look up. Four of the Admiral's troops turned into their corridor. They spotted the women and started running towards them. Not even bothering to jump to her feet, Root lifted her fire arm and let her vine defend them.

White hot flame hit the men when they got close and their screams echoed against the walls. The fire gave Root a rush, like she held all the power in the world at her fingertips and she could hardly wait to do experiments on the vine later. The screaming stopped and Root dropped her arm, sweating.

"Ok," she breathed, wiping her face with her other hand, "let's get moving."

She turned back to Shaw and found her staring at Root, eyes unreadable. Root could tell that she wanted to ask questions, but she was holding herself back. Root smiled tightly.

"Lots to talk about. Let's move."

Wrapping her arms around Shaw's waist, Root stood up carefully, lifting Shaw to her feet. Her comfortable shoes slid on the carpeted floor of the corridor, but they made it upright without much trouble. When they were stable, she shifted herself, keeping her bare arm around Shaw's waist and the other loose so she could use it if the encountered anyone else.

They took a step, but stumbled, one of Shaw's ankles buckling.

"Fuck," Shaw cursed as Root steadied them. "I guess they got me worse that I thought."

"Well, I've got you now," Root assured her, "and I'm never letting you go."

Shaw snorted, but she didn't say anything. They started towards the Infirmary again and Root focused everything on just moving them forward. Shaw was hard to maneuver. She was so much shorter than Root and more muscular. Root had to stoop to keep her arm in place, but she enjoyed the feeling of Shaw's warm skin on her own.

"I think I'm going to pass out," Shaw said as they turned a corner. "Talk to me. Keep me awake."

"The Passiflora," Root said calmly, "attached itself to me when I was looking for a weapon. I wanted to find you, but I didn't have anything to fight with and my flamethrower is still broken."

They were only a couple turns from the Infirmary now, but Shaw was becoming heavier and Root was having trouble keeping her up and moving.

"Does it hurt?" Shaw asked her, limping along. "If it hurts you, I'll kill it."

"It's fine," Root panted. "No pain. We're almost there."

Shaw nodded. Her hair hung free from a low ponytail and it stuck to her face with sweat. "Good."

Telling her the story of what happened, Root kept walking. They turned another corner and she could see the Infirmary doors. Shaw moved along slowly, but steadily, and they made it to the Infirmary door in a few minutes. As the doors slid open, they revealed two of the Admiral's troops sitting on beds and healing themselves with Shaw's tools.

Shaw growled. "Why are there so many of these fuckers? Blast them."

Root lifted her arm, burning them until the screaming stopped. It made her a little queasy, but she could ignore it when she remembered that they were actively hurting everyone Root cared about. She stopped the fire and dropped her arm again. Sweat dripped down her back and she felt a little light-headed.

"I think that takes a lot of energy," Root sighed, helping Shaw through the door. "I can't do it forever."

"Can you take it off?"

"I haven't tried," Root muttered, carefully moving Shaw's arm to rest on the small table attached to the seat. "I wish I could put you on a bed."

"We'll work out," Shaw chuckled. She leaned to the side, using her good arm to pull a lever and lean the chair back into a bed. "Then you can lift me on to anything."

"Promise?" Root laughed. She winked, knowing how her clumsy blink made Shaw smiled. She did, and Root started for the table of instruments. "We've got ten years worth of sex to make up for. I have to get you back to full health."

"Do you need instructions?" Shaw asked her. "I need a –"

"Stop," Root said, looking down at all the tools. "I know what to do." She picked up the same tool Shaw had used to stimulate blood cells when Root had been punctured by the vine. Turning around, Root waved it in the air. "I'm not just a pretty face."

"Hey, pretty face," Shaw said, wincing in pain, "you might want to heal the wounds before you make me bleed more."

Root rolled her eyes. "Of course."

She went to put the tool down, but it slipped from her sweaty fingers. For the first time, she saw that her vine hand was trembling and she clasped it in her other one, trying to calm herself. She looked over the tools and found the one for repairing skin wounds. She couldn't name it, but she remembered it from her textbooks.

"This one?" Root asked holding it up for Shaw to see.

Shaw nodded and Root looked at her, really looked at her in the cold light of the Infirmary, and saw how pale and sweaty Shaw looked. She looked like she was about to pass out and Root hurried over to her. The gash was angry and red and Root suddenly worried about infection. Could an injury get infected this fast? Or was Shaw's condition because of blood loss?

"Stay with me, Sweetie," Root said as Shaw's eyes began to droop. "Want me to talk about something?"

Shaw's head had dropped to the side, but she nodded weakly, eyes still half-closed. Root knelt beside her and turned the tool on, moving it over the wound. The arm muscles began to stitch together and Root sighed in relief.

She liked her lips and started talking.

"Remember when I met your mom?" Root said quietly. "That trip to your home colony? I loved her. She was so soft and kind and beautiful. Honestly, I thought she's be rude like you."

Shaw barked a short laugh and tried to smile at Root. "You were so surprised."

"I was! Your room was not a surprise, though." Root kept an eye on the Shaw's arm, but grinned up at Shaw. "You had a million sports posters on your wall. Just muscular women everywhere. I thought you would never like me. I'm so skinny."

The muscular layer finished healing and the skin began to pull together. Shaw would be fine. Once the gash healed, Root would help her blood flow and she'd be better in no time. For a moment, she wondered how everyone else was doing and if the station had bested the intruders. They would have to find out eventually.

"Nah," Shaw said, sounding a little stronger, "you're beautiful."

Root laughed loudly, the sound echoing in the room. "Wow, this must really hurt. I don't think you've ever called me beautiful before."

Something crossed Shaw's face and her smile slipped into a frown. "I'm sorry."

"I know who you are, Sameen," Root responded, shrugging. "I don't need all that."

"But you deserve it."

Root didn't know what to say to that, so she just focused on Shaw's arm. It was probably the pain making Shaw say this, or her brush with death. Soon, they'd be back to normal, or as close to normal as they could be during a revolution.

"Carter to Root."

Root jumped, dropping the tool to the ground. "Shit," she whispered, picking it up and standing. She tapped her insignia. "Go for Root."

"Thank goodness," was the response. "Do you have Shaw?"

"I do. She was hurt, but I'm almost finished healing her."

Reese's voice crackled through the comm. "Come to the Bridge as soon as possible. We've kept control of the station, but the Admiral's ship is hailing."

"Copy."

Root hit her insignia again, severing the connection.

Shaw groaned. "Do my ankle next. We can do blood on the way."

Hurrying back to the table of tools, Root picked up the Osteogenic Stimulator and the blood cell tool and brought them back over. She knelt again, this time at Shaw's ankle, and began working in her ankle. As the Stimulator beeped, she smiled at Shaw.

"The tables have turned, huh?"

Shaw grimaced. "I forgot how annoying this was. Maybe I will invent something better."

"That's the spirit!" She turned the Stimulator off and stood up. She gave Shaw a stern look, mocking her. "Now, that's going to hurt for a few more days, so I'd take it easy."

"Fuck off," Shaw mumbled as she sat up and swung her legs to the side. "I'm the doctor here."

"Hmm, I know."

Shaw rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet. She snatched the blood tool from Root's hands and started towards the door. Following behind, Root smiled to herself. As weird as the night had been, Shaw was always the same.

It only took them a few minutes to get to the Bridge. Every hall them ran down had an enemy troop either dead or incapacitated. Root was proud of her station and its crew. They may have been outnumbered, but they knew this place better than High Command did and that made all the difference. Not bad for a tiny research station.

They walked onto the Bridge to see the other officers gathering in front of the main screen. Captain Finch looks up as they went and gestures for them to come to the screen. Root took stock of her friends.

Commander Reese looked battered. His neck and arm were bruised, probably from some high impact hit. His knuckles were bloody and Root bet the men who had hit him were dead. She couldn't care about the death; she'd killed several people that day.

Commander Carter looked worse. Her uniform was singed and ripped and Root realized her ship must have gotten hit in the battle. It was a miracle she was even alive; their fighter ships were not the most reliable. Root made a mental note to hug her later.

She saw Fusco waving at her and waved back. He looked fresh out of bed, his force fields apparently keeping him safe and clean. Root still wasn't sure what he did on the station, but she had much more respect for him now.

They stopped beside Zoe and Root smiled at her. She was also in her pajamas, a beautiful silk suit, but she looked a little worse for the wear. Her normally perfect hair was down around her shoulders and long scratch ran down the side of her face. She smiled back at Root.

"Glad to see you're ok," Zoe said, patting Root's free arm. She nodded towards Shaw. "Glad to see her, too."

"Thanks," Root said.

She felt exhausted. The stress of the day and the energy the vine took from her had drained her and she just wanted to crawl into bed with Sameen. They still had to talk to the Admiral, though, and then start their revolution. It would probably be years before she and Sameen had any time to spend relaxing.

"What is that?"

Root turned to the Captain, but he was staring at her arm. She rolled her eyes.

"Ok! Everyone!" Root looked around the room and held her arm up. "I have a plant attached to me. It shoots fire. I don't know if it comes off, but I don't really care. I've kind of become attached."

"Gross," Shaw muttered beside her as the others on the Bridge laughed. "Can we just talk to the Admiral now?"

"Yes," Captain Finch said, sighing, "we can. She's been calling since the fighting started, but we didn't want to answer. Now that the fighting has ceased, I suppose we have to."

Carter snorted. "If we don't, her ship might start shooting at us."

Finch nodded to Ensign Harper and the alarm stopped. Root took a deep breath, soaking in the silence. Her head was still hurting, but it felt a little better now that that shrill beat was gone. The main screen crackled and then Admiral McCarthy appeared in front of them.

Admiral McCarthy was older than Root remembered, lines framed her face and made her look haggard. This was the face of their enemy, the person responsible for all the trouble humanity was having. She sat casually in her Captain's chair, like she wasn't the worst person in the universe. Root's hands clenched into fists.

"What?" Admiral McCarthy gasped when she saw them. "How?"

"Admiral," Finch said, sounding authoritative, "your attack has failed. Soon the entire Consortium will fail."

The Admiral raised her eyebrows. "Attack? We came here to mine this planet. What are you all doing here?"

"Don't play dumb," Shaw scoffed. "It doesn't suit you. You're a villain, but you're not an idiot."

"You sent us here." Root walked closer to the screen, glaring up at the woman who had taken Sameen from her. "A sick sort of punishment."

The Admiral shook her head slowly. "There's no record of this station in our system. Well, no record that it's active. Our main program doesn't come out this far. You've all been missing for years."

Root looked at Shaw, confused. They were missing? They'd been doing work for years, the station was old. Had The Program hidden them all this time? Was that why it hadn't been able to talk to her? She thought about how The Program had found them all and how every person on the Rock had a bone to pick with the Admiral.

She took another step forward. "If you're not here for us, why are you here?"

"What kind of mining?" Zoe added. "You want something from the Rock?"

The Admiral's mouth moved in displeasure. She had obviously given away more than she wanted to. She coughed into her fist.

"That's none of your business. I'll repeat my question: What are you all doing here?"

Captain Finch drew himself up. "Tell us what your business is on The Rock and I'll tell you what we're doing here."

The Admiral sighed loudly. She crossed her arms. "I suppose I don't have a choice. There are enough materials here to build a whole fleet of ships. We want those materials."

The Rock was full of materials. Glancing at Shaw, Root saw the same glint in her eyes that Root knew was in her. They had the last piece of their plan. The communication devices on the Colonies and on Earth would activate, the Rock would build a fleet, and then they'd all take over the Consortium. Well, that was a little idealistic, but Root couldn't help the thrill that ran through her.

"Alright," the Admiral said, scowling, "I held up my end. Now explain what you're doing at a station that's been abandoned for almost 15 years, instead of in the jails I sent you to."

"We were sent here," Carter answered. She held her hands out, shrugging. "Full transfers. This is an active station."

"We get no messages, research, scans." The Admiral adjusted herself in her seat. "Can't be an active station if it isn't sharing what it finds."

Reese stepped forward. "We send daily reports out. We have for-"

"Commander," Root said interrupting her. "There's no point in arguing. I think…our friend…has kept us hidden."

She stared at him meaningfully. After a moment, he seemed to get it, shaking his head and looking away. As she glanced at the rest of her team, she saw that they were all catching on. Shaw winked at her and stepped forward turning to face the Admiral.

"Your reign is over," Shaw said dramatically. "We're the resistance."

The Admiral's whole demeaner shifted. First, she seemed surprised to see Shaw. Then, her face faded into anger. "Commander Shaw. What a surprise."

"You should have killed me when you got the chance."

"I thought I had." The Admiral steepled her fingers in front of her face. "'The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots.' You were a true patriot."

Shaw didn't answer. Root looked at her, waiting for a comeback, but none came. Instead, Shaw looked away, crossing her arms in front of her. That quote meant something important, but Root couldn't place it. Why did it sound familiar?"

"Do you remember Professor Collier, Lieutenant Groves?"

Root's head shot up, staring at the oversized image of Admiral McCarthy on the main screen. She hadn't been called that in two years, even Captain Finch only called her 'Lieutenant.' Her stomach sunk as she processed the rest of the Admiral's question.

"I do," Root answered, steeling herself for a trick. "What about him?"

"Do you know where he is now?"

Root grit her teeth, remembering her conversation with Shaw. "No."

"I'm sure you think your revolution will be a way to rekindle your lost love, but your lover has done things that would curdle your blood."

Root smiled at her, putting her hands on her hips. "You're going to tell me that Sameen killed Professor Collier." Shaw's head shot up to stare at Root, her eyes like dark and wide. Winking at her, Root turned back to the Admiral. "We've all done bad things and no one on the Rock is any worse than you."

Admiral McCarthy smiled humorlessly. "So, you're just going to revolt and High Command is going to cower?"

"There's more to that quote, you know," Root said softly. "'The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots. And tyrants."

The Admiral frowned and cut the line. The main screen disappeared and they could see through it to the space in front of the station. The Admiral's ship was leaving and with it the other large ship and the last remaining fighters. Root watched them leave before turning around.

Her team looked tired, exhausted and beaten. They also looked hopeful and excited. The Admiral knew about their plan now, but they still had the upper hand. She didn't know about their contact with The Program. She didn't know about their communication stations. She didn't know about them.

Root was had already placed her life in the hands of her team and she knew that they had done the same with theirs. It was time to prepare for the future. They would mine this Rock and build ships for themselves and start a newer, better Consortium, a real one.

She grinned at Sameen. "Let the games begin."


End file.
